Allison had been pregnant for several months and it was beginning to become evident to well...everyone. She'd been a small woman and even now that quality was evident in spades but the roundness of the baby was something that nobody could deny at that point.

Norrington loved her all the more. He'd cooked, not wanting her to exert herself this late in the pregnancy, and prepared himself for another long night of pampering.

House is changing his hundred and tenth diaper of the day--Gabe needs to be potty-trained, if just to cut down on this--when the phone rings. He swears internally and finishes fastening Malcolm's diaper, then lifts his son to his chest, holding him there as he limps over to the phone. "What?"

The woman on the other end says, "Is this Dr. House?"

"No, I just answer his phone for fun," he snaps. "Yes. It is. And if you're calling me to work, there's this thing called--"

"Dr. House," the woman says, "there's been an accident." He stills, hardly breathing. "Dr. Foreman is here in the ER. You'll need to come in."

"PPTH?" he demands.

"Yes. He's--"

He doesn't let her finish; she would just be giving the room number, not Foreman's status. He hangs up the phone and herds the older kids out to the car, getting the three of them and Malcolm strapped in before going back in for the girls. Ella and Rachel buckled in, he slides into the driver's seat and flips open his phone. He's got to have people meet him, if only because he isn't capable of carrying more than one baby at a time.

[Okay. Older kids are Michael, Gabe, and Jeannette. The younger three are surprise! triplets that were supposed to be twin. Malcolm Eric, Brenda Rachel (they were not expecting two girls, and had to scramble; they're calling her Rachel), and Ella Marie are currently a whole four days old.

People he's calling: Chase, Wilson, and Zelda. He's hoping at least one of the first two is still at the hospital, and he definitely wants all three there. Anyone else can just so happen to be at the ER to wrangle kids.]

William's still fussing when Brenda pulls into the driveway. As soon as she parks, she's out to take him from his carseat, cradling him in her arms. "Shh, baby," she murmurs. "Mama's here. We're getting Daddy. Mama's got you, little one."

When she gets inside, she sinks onto the couch to nurse him. It's a comfort for him, and it worked for all the others when they were babies. "Spike?" she calls. "William needs you." That should wake him up.

Angel woke up late, well after Cordelia was at work and by the time he was awake and ready to go to work himself, she'd come home and gotten Ciara ready for bed. Their schedules didn't leave a lot of time for talking to begin with and made it all too easy to avoid one another after the fight. He hadn't meant to get her pregnant--it was stupid. Incredibly stupid.

It was evening, just after sunset, and Angel figured that Cordelia was taking her time getting groceries and letting him have time alone with Ciara.

"You love me, huh baby girl?" She just gurgled in response.

Charlie was cute when he slept. He looked, well, pretty, all laying there with his mouth a little open and a smile on his face. Rob usually woke up before him and got to spend a few lazy moments watching Charlie doze in the ridiculously large hotel bed before shaking him awake. It paid off, playing handsome bachelors in an Atlantic City hotel.

He crawled over him, laying a kiss over his hip before kissing his cock. "Think it's time to greet the world, Charlie."

It was in the water. She was pregnant, after trying for God knows how long, and she'd taken several home tests before putting her labs in under an assumed name (Cameron Chase--how creative.) Hopefully House wouldn't think to look and, if he did, wouldn't think she'd be that obvious.

Labs in hand, she toed off her shoes at the door of her apartment and lost a good four inches in height.

"Sean? You around?"

Cordelia is not particularly pleased with a certain ex-vampire. She has a baby in a sling on her hip as she leaves the exam room after her millionth vaginal exam in a year.

He is totally getting a vasectomy. Wifely edict. How is she supposed to find daycare that will take an infant and a near-toddler? If she has to quit her job, he is so getting three more to make up for it.

Ciara fusses, tugging roughly at her shirt. "Hush, baby," she murmurs. "We'll be out soon, and then you can eat."

Also, the man is never, ever getting near her boobs again.

When the pain hasn't gone away in a week, and has actually gotten worse, House figures it's time to get one of his personal doctors in on it. He'll do it after coffee, though.

He bangs into the office and heads straight for the coffee pot. A cautious sniff of the still-steaming pot, and then it's poured out and he starts a new pot. This, then he'll hunt down Chase or Wilson. Not Foreman until he knows results; Foreman's bound to be overly concerned. Nice, coming from the one whose knee slid out of place the night before.

Robert had felt better for a while, actually, and had been back to New York on a couple occasions with Giselle. He was back now, in New Jersey, because Giselle wanted to go down the boardwalk and enjoy a day at the shore and, well, it was quicker to go through the Portal than to actually drive to Jersey. Morgan was staying with a friend for the weekend and Robert wasn't terribly concerned. Besides, his cell got reception.

He had a bouquet of daffodils for Giselle and was searching the halls of the hospital for her.

"Giselle?"

Jeannette was probably going to be confused about why Foreman was taking her out of day care for lunch and, if he knew her, highly suspicious of his motives. Jeannette might not have been House's child biologically, but she'd definitely picked up his mannerisms.

He was waiting in the front of the day care for her, figuring a teacher would bring her up to the front.