Last 2 versions of preConceived

He'd been on various travels off-world and shared travails with his oath-Lord, meeting and mingling with some of the more outrageous galactics the Nexus had to offer. Many had seemed living examples of the mutants straight from tales he'd been told as a child. The lessons that they were all people had been learned by him long before he left the world of his birth.

All of that traveling had happened *after* he'd met someone who had fit the model of a frighteningly nightmarish mutant and he had fallen deeply in love with her.

Even though he couldn't see it in himself, it seemed she had fallen for him as well, too, yet now she was beyond his protective grasp, leaving him feeling far more empty than he would have believed possible. His reach had been just enough for him to come to know her with his heart and soul. A large portion of his heart had left with her when she departed to re-join her fleet. The heartbreak of her foreshortened life implied their parting would not likely be undone in time to hold each other for long.

He knew enough now to curse the ancient who had claimed it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

The very same childhood stories and legends that he'd needed to break out of to see the beauty in the engineered woman soldier was the very same force spread across his home world that kept her from settling with him.

For him, he'd first had to learn she was a person instead of the monster he'd been taught to fear and fight.

That had been hard. Very hard.

In some ways, when she finally dressed as a woman of his own world, the camaraderie of fellow protectors had fallen by the wayside; She had gone from a figure of respect and duty shared into a woman, intimidating all by her beauty and, in his eyes, worthy of love. This same beauty had distracted him and he'd felt shame when he'd fallen short of his duties in protecting her.

Once he'd accepted her humanity, he'd learned with his heart that the genetic engineering that had made her didn't mean she was any less subject to loneliness; it seemed any gifts she'd gained were more than counterbalanced by curses, her heart proving itself no more and no less than human.

He'd not known, until after his Lord's wedding that she'd come to witness, that she was facing an enemy far more implacable than any insane man with an auto-needler. Time continued to be her greatest enemy as she fought to fill each tick of the clock with acts of *living* them.

Yet despite the shortened lifetime hanging over her head, she'd taught him more about love -- and life -- than he'd ever dreamt possible.

Unfortunately, knowing love, he knew and lived with the pain of being parted...

Exchanges of messages across interstellar space were uplifting almost in the same measure as the aftermath of elation left him drained. It was hard to live with so little of her in his life at times. It was hard to awaken with empty arms.

As an oath-bound armsman he could not leave to join her in the fleet, though his Lord promised that he'd try to arrange meeting for them. While the house he served was one of the few havens on his world where she'd be accepted, it was still a small, small place for such a wonderful woman.

While he wanted a place for her by his side (or he by hers) even his little Lord felt that it would be too many more years before she would be acceptable on this, his home world. It sometimes seemed that his Lord felt weighed down when he spoke of this.

A whole planet could still be such a tiny prison, it seemed. He was bound by his oath to a world whose bars, as a prison, resided in the minds of his fellow subjects, yet were no less real.

The distraction of his work helped him, even if often fed by the swirling of events around his employer, for his Lord seemed to have an almost irresistible gravitational attraction pulling many "interesting" disasters in around him. Working the night shift as he was, while a relief, gave him more time to reflect than he'd have had otherwise.

As the youngest of the twenty he was also the only unmarried one. This had garnered him more than a little teasing from his elders, of course, though once his love had left, all hazing on that subject had abated. Other kinds of hazing didn't abate, of course. Perhaps his brethren in arms were more sensitive to him than they seemed?

The knowledge that both his Lord and Lady cared deeply for his distant lover helped reassure him that there'd be a way for him to see her again. The fear that it would only be as she was dying of old age felt like a dagger in his heart.

That didn't mean he didn't feel himself depressed as he made his rounds; any hope for distraction, through excitement, was controlled by the *fear* of excitement, especially in _this_ household. While people didn't find his little Lord intimidating physically, many feared his wit.

_

The memory of how the armsman he'd relieved in the evening had smiled at him in a strange way so he worried that some kind of hazing was being set up with him as the butt of a joke.

This night was quiet with very little activity other than his own. As morning approached he helped the kitchen staff for a few minutes get things started as the rest of the staff awakened and arrived in the kitchen. The chef's matronly smile seemed extra bright to his eyes on this morning as she set out his dinner before bustling off to prepare breakfast for the others in the house.

Meals were both a blessing and a curse for him; given his work, he needed to be at his best physically, keeping as fit and trim as possible, but this House had a truly talented artist in the kitchen. Her meals ensured that every waistline within the house remained under siege despite any and all efforts at culinary heroism.

As per his usual schedule, there'd be enough time for the meal to settle before his late morning run. He kept hoping that the effort was not a vain effort to counteract his wonderful dinner.

The head armsman's own smile on relieving him was not reassuring; being security trained, the man seemed to enjoy putting him on the defensive. With his brethren coming from various military organizations helped make him feel inadequate given his far more humble start as a constable.

After the rest of the house had reached full wakefulness he made his "morning" run...

On his way back to his room for his scheduled sleep he was called to meet both the little Lord and the Lady.

He was a man of his word and his oath ran deep. As much as this call seemed an inconvenience, he didn't even think of muttering a complaint under his breath as he dressed again in his full House uniform. While realizing that his Lord wasn't always a stickler for full decorum at all times, he was anxious about today. Too many people had smiled at him as if he was going to be the butt of a practical joke so he went over his appearance carefully, not wanting to be surprised. He had enough memories of how his earnest desire to carry out his duties did not go well.

Both his Lord and Lady were sitting in the Library when he presented himself, the remains of their morning coffee at their elbows. Only the knowing smiles on their faces showed anything odd. He wondered if both of his employers were in on some kind of cruel joke?

"My Lord, Milady, may I be of service?" How he'd managed to keep his voice steady seemed a miracle to him.

He got a nod from both of them and then watched as the couple reached out and held each other's hands.

This little gesture of their togetherness, as much as he'd worked to inure himself, reminded him of his love out there somewhere in the galaxy, facing her death as a soldier ... if her body's ticking clock didn't kill her first.

"You still miss her, don't you?" his Lady asked, watching his face carefully. Apparently his expression was not neutral enough to hide his feeling of loss as memories resurfaced.

He nodded with his eyes gathering a hint of water.

His Lord spoke up "She sent you a gift. A gift she couldn't send directly to me," smirking. "But it was a gift that she was sure you would be able to welcome." The couple eyed each other and nodded. "And she knew that I'd welcome this particular gift in my household."

Curious, he asked, "My Lord, I don't understand."

"Follow us", she told him, her warm voice ensuring his anxiety would fade as he followed. They led him to the room by the Nursery where the uterine replicators for both of their children had been kept and maintained ... and where one now sat, in the middle of a table. Extra support equipment sat around it next to a code card on the table.

The lights on the replicator were blinking in a reassuring cadence. There was someone inside it, floating, awaiting birth.

"Sir?" he asked, wondering what he was facing. The thought of what kind of present could...

"Surprised, aren't you? Well, so was I, when this arrived just yesterday, though I shouldn't have been. It seems that my wife is rather more ... devious ... than I'd ever thought her to be." He watched as his Lord smiled-- or was that yet another smirk?-- at his wife, who smirked right back at him. His Lord's face showed approval. "Security was pretty anxious about this arrival and worried that it was a bomb, so it's been checked and the courier's bona fides confirmed. It was addressed to you," A wry smile crossed the face of both of his employers, "Rather than myself. It would appear you have a daughter."

He backed away from the device. "What?" Yes, he'd wished he had something of her to have and hold, but he'd thought the lock of hair she'd sent some months before had been all. Some of the remarks she'd made in the last couple of months of their messages to each other suddenly fell into place, all those little clues and hints that he'd missed.

Well, he'd never been very devious; as a former patrolman, being straightforward was important.

He knew, now. Something of her, to have and to hold. The enormity of her trust in him-- her commitment, her love-- came home. While a surprise, it wasn't completely out of the blue, he'd just missed the true meaning of the hints.

His Lord was still smiling up at him and handed him the code card from the desk and told him "I've not viewed this, it came with a message for me to pass this to you with a recommendation that you view it privately. I'll admit that I'd not bet against Security not having viewed it..."

His Lady was tall enough to touch his shoulder easily and so touched her guard and squeezed him. "I hope you realize how much work went into the timing of this. Yes, She and I conspired on this. I owe you both. It didn't hurt that my husband made one of his flip remarks that got me to thinking about this, too."

He stared at his Lady, a question wanting to pass his lips but his training held it in.

"Why, you ask? All right, I agree that this will make it harder for you to court for yourself, but I've watched you. You've been too alone, you know, and we can all see how that weighs on you. She does worry about you and when I brought this idea up, she realized that she wanted children... with you. So I encouraged her and made sure she knew your children would be welcome here. So, I ask you... not as an oath-bound Armsman, but as a man, how do you feel about fathering a child with her?"

He felt shaky. He'd sent...

He reached up to touch his scalp where he'd taken a lock of his hair over a year ago to send off to her; it had grown back again, of course, but ... could it be? Could this baby be really be his *and* his love's?

"Milady, Milord..."

Completely out of the blue his Lady put a finger to his lips, stopping him from saying another word. "I said, as a man, not an armsman. For the next minute I'm not your Lady and he's not your Lord," jerking a thumb at her almost perplexed husband, "so no honorifics are needed. How do you feel? Does her thought please you?"

He shook where he stood, thinking. Suddenly he knew, and nodded, saying "Yes, the idea of raising her-- no, our-- daughter does please me. Did she tell you what to name the baby?"

A smile that seemed only women could understand crossed his Lady's face. "She told me she has many things to say to you on this card, but I _was_ told the name will be yours to choose." She smiled, dimples appearing momentarily before continuing with "I don't think you know this, but my husband named her when he met her. Before that, all she had was a number. She makes some suggestions but feels it has to be your choice. By the way, the engineering to mix your genes together wasn't exactly simple ... but I had some help. My husband also had someone, a genetic engineer, who owed him _big_. It didn't hurt that I have friends in high places, either, who appreciate what you've both done for us."

His Lord looked almost shocked. "You? You? But..." Watching his Lord splutter like this would have normally have driven a cold knot of fear through the armsman's body, but, now, it was almost amusing.

The Lady of the House wasn't finished, now that she'd truly shocked her husband, who she turned to "And, Dearest husband, I talked her into wanting a big family. Need I say more?"

But... how could he care for a child now? He was unmarried and couldn't see how his job would allow him the time to be a right and proper father for a daughter.

But then, it seemed his Lady had that taken care of, too. Touching the replicator in a comforting way, she added "She's your child, the start of your own family, but she's also welcome here with our own children, so don't worry, please. If you keep worrying, I *will* have to arrange a marriage for you. And I won't limit the candidates to our world."

He shuddered in fear at first at the idea of having to put up with an arranged marriage and then suddenly stopped, with the realization of what his Lady was like. While he wanted the woman he loved in his life...

His Lady was no slouch; she was smart, sharp and more than a little sensitive. He wondered if his falling in love had been part of one of her plans, though how would he ever know?

"Your daughter is floating in there, waiting to be born. She can be born any day now."

Was that eagerness in her voice?

The world seemed to recede from him; while a shock, he'd faced seemingly incalculable odds with his Lord and not merely survived but, against the odds, thrived. With this family accepting and encouraging his child, what could possibly defeat them? The idea that they'd care for his daughter almost as their own...

He nodded in the affirmative, feeling too choked up to speak.

"So will tomorrow be all right? Or the day after?" his Lady asked, almost seeming eager. "And ... can we be her godparents?"

Again he nodded, stunned that they'd commit so much. With a questioning tone, he added "Tomorrow morning, then?"

A matched pair of nods provided his reply.

So many emotional blows in one morning. The code card, his connection to his lover, almost fell from his hands as he found a seat, apologizing to his employers for his weakness.

A surprise: his Lord's hand rested on his shoulder. "It is no weakness to love and feel loss. I have to admit, though, that our women are surprisingly creative..."

He was left alone with the replicator which kept a baby -- his baby, now -- warm and prepared for birth.

Even if the baby had been no more than a clone of his lover he'd still feel happy and content, for he'd have something of her to hold on to.

Any man watching him as he stood again to touch and stroke the machine would recognize the gesture of affection for what -- or who -- was inside, caressing the machine as he would his lover.