THROWING up in the backyard of his mother's house in Devon was not the way Dane expected he'd find out about his impending fatherhood. It wasn't something he'd really thought out but he knew it wouldn't have involved shrubbery and a Hilditch/Huntington viewing gallery.

Yet here he was.

In his mother's backyard with his pregnant best friend, fertilizing the Hydrangeas.

Well, he'd already fertilized her, so why not.

It was a freezing cold November evening and they'd both lost a lot of fluid.

He was no longer sympathy vomiting, or maybe it had been the shock that had caused his technicolor wave?

He should be angry and he was, he should be hurt and yeah he was that too but mostly he was worried. He had an arm thrown around Sarah, supporting her. She felt weak like she'd fall over if he moved his arm, he wasn't use to that, she was a strong woman, mentally and physically, here and now she was cold, clammy, shivering and heading towards four months pregnant with a child.

His child.

He'd made a baby. 

Something in him stirred.

"Are you okay Fox?" he asked quietly. Her teeth were chattering, her lips a fetching shade of purple.

"We need to get you inside darling."

She looked behind her. They had an audience. She shook her head.

They needed to talk, they needed privacy. He pivoted his body enough to allow him to give his family the "scram signal" – waving his hand furiously at them. Fox needed space. She couldn't "people" right now, even people she felt safe with. He knew the look on her face; could read her body language, wondered whether she'd send him away next, well try to – Dane wasn't going anywhere, not until he got answers and then still probably not. He saw his mother gather his siblings, their partners and children and heading out of the kitchen.

"They're gone Fox, we need to get you and Bean inside," he said gently. She might not go for her own good but he had the impression that mentioning Bean would work. She was fiercely protective of that little foetus. It may be a little scrap of humanity but it was her child.

His child.

If he kept repeating it in his head it might start feeling real. The feeling stirred again, he felt so protective towards her, he'd always had her back but now................

"Please for our baby."

Her eyes softened into a gentle smile.

She'd looked frightened and flighty before, like a wild untamed animal caught in a trap and looking for an escape but she was starting to settle, starting to look like his Fox. And whatever she'd done, she was still that, she'd always be that.

"I tried to tell you," she said shivering as he helped her up. He nodded.

"The other day – I was going to tell you and then Sabine answered the intercom and I couldn't do it to her, to you. You deserve a normal life."

They were walking towards the house now, Sarah was leaning on him. 

So pale. 

He felt guilt, anger, sorrow.

"You didn't think to tell me when you found out?" he was still talking in a little more than a whisper, trying to keep his tone neutral and not let any of the anger seep in, afraid he'd spook her. He just wanted to get her inside to the warmth, to a shower and a nice tea, he could do with a nice sweet tea himself. He was almost sorry he'd asked the question, he should wait until she was warm, until she felt better but he needed to know, he needed to try and get into her head. He knew now why not ringing her had upset her so much and a wave of guilt washed over him. She'd been pregnant and alone, without her best friend, the father of her child. She didn't do it on her own, it was more his stupid fault than hers if he analysed it and he'd been so caught up trying to keep it normal that he didn't realise normal had changed forever. Her whole support network was connected to him; he wondered how isolated that had made her feel. But why didn't she tell him, they shared everything? And this was the biggest thing they would share. A baby, half him, half her. His grip tightened around her.

"I found out the day the pictures came out," she said, shivering and stuttering the answer he needed.

He gave her a puzzled look. It may have been the answer he was looking for but he had no idea what she meant.

"The pictures of you and Sabine on the beach," she continued, reading his mind like she always did.

"I stood in my lounge room with a pregnancy test in one hand and the pap pictures of you two on my twitter feed. You looked happy and she looked beautiful and I felt like I could ruin it all for you. I have enough money to do this on my own, I decided I should. That you needed a chance at a normal life."

He looked sad, it all made sense. She would put him first, she always had. It was weird warped logic but it was pure Fox. Fiercely loyal and protective of the people she loved.

"Being a dad is a part of normal life," he whispered as they finally entered the house. He'd never been more pleased to be in a centrally heated room. Dane's arms wrapped around her and he pulled her close, they must both smell like a pub toilet on a Saturday night but he just wanted to warm her up. Protect them both. Her and Bean.

It was stupid but it was instinctual. He didn't tell Fox though, she'd laugh and call it a load of bollocks.

But he didn't care he was going to be a dad.

It was still slowly sinking in. Fox was carrying his child, his sperm, her egg – bam. He was still numb from the cold and shock, it still didn't really feel real, it felt like they were playing dress-ups; pretending to be adults. He tightened his grip, pulled her closer, felt the swell of her abdomen against his.

His baby.

An involuntary thrill ran through. 

It was still foreign, still, like it was happening to someone else. But kind of thrilling. 

He wondered then how long she would let him hold her. Fox liked to hug these days, liked the human contact but only for so long. So far though, with her cold hands resting on the top of his arse and her head on his shoulder, she seemed content. He wished they could stay like this forever but something would come between them eventually – it already was. They were having a baby.

And then she shivered.

And that protective feeling kicked in again.

"You need to go up, have a warm shower and maybe get into bed, I'll make some tea and bring it up," he whispered.

His words stirred her. He felt her stiffen like he'd poked a sleeping lion or lioness in this case and she was just waking up. He suddenly remembered this was Fox, she didn't like to feel helpless, he mentally kicked himself.

"I'm not an invalid, I'm just pregnant," she recited, like it was her new mantra, it probably was, probably would be now, now that everyone that mattered knew. She wriggled out of his arms and stood to face him looking defiant, looking more like Fox. A pale, shivering version, but Fox none-the-less. The unpredictable, unsinkable Sarah Huntington and he felt like a young teen about to be dragged on one of their adventures again.

And when he said dragged, he meant it literally.

She grabbed his hand, instinctively they linked their fingers.

And he followed her, smelling a little of vomit, with a bit of hydrangea still stuck in their hair, into the dining room.

The family were talking and eating and drinking and acting like this was a normal night for the Hilditch/Huntington's and Browns (Michael and the twins were Browns). It's normal to have two of their own hurl in the garden while talking about the baby they made together on a drunken night 13 weeks ago right?'

She had his hand in a vice-like grip, he wasn't escaping. But he knew that already.

"Family can I have a minute!!??" Sarah said loudly, a steely determined look in her eye. The entire group stopped pretending to ignore Dane and Sarah (who as the tallest family members were pretty imposing and loud at the best of times) and looked towards her. You never knew what Sarah was going to say, working with her on television would be a nightmare; without careful scripting, it would be terrifying. But with 22 years of friendship under his belt, Dane had learned to hold on tight and enjoy the ride. Tonight was no exception – he squeezed her hand and she continued her hastily prepared, totally on the fly, this isn't going to end in embarrassment in front of his whole family, oration.

"I'd like to make a little announcement, though I think it's probably a moot point now given the technicolour back garden display of recent times, but well, as you know, I'm pregnant, what you may not know, because he didn't until very recently, is that, well, the baby (she touched her stomach for effect at this point) Bean was my birthday present from Dane. We aren't together, we're not about to get together, we aren't a couple so don't start planning weddings or anything crazy like that, but we are going to be parents in five and a bit months."

Dane let out the breath he'd been holding and suddenly almost the entire family were surrounding them, hugging them, pulling them in opposite directions. He was preparing for questions he really didn't want to answer.

"Are you okay?" Neville asked quietly in his ear.

"I feel like I've been run over by a truck," he answered.

"So situation normal around Sarah then?" he laughed and Dane nodded adding the customary eye-roll that accompanied any conversation about the force of nature that was Fox Huntington.