Welcome back! I have been dying to use this
title since I started writing my story. I claim
no originality for it; I heard a comedian say it
on Smoking Gun’s: World’s Dumbest. I felt it
was more than appropriate when describing
Currently, it is also a dig at me. As you may
have read on the Boolprop board or on my
LJ, my game became a BFBVFS in the middle
of shooting this chapter. I was able to eke out
a few more story line shots, however.
Strangely enough, I am beginning to look
forward to the reinstall and rebuild. I am
NOT canning my story by any means. It’s just
that the remaining chapters are going to be in
a different location.
Anyway, enough about that. On with the
Sebastian and Tristen were in their own
private world as they cuddled on the bed.
Sebastian smiled contentedly as he reached
over and held Tristen’s hand in his own. “I
love you Tris,” he said as he rubbed his thumb
over one of her fingers. Tristen sleepily smiled
“Me too,” she replied, and then she let out a
soft yawn, “but I have to go to sleep. Being
an assistant cheerleader coach is a big job!
All the Jazz Hands and Spirit Fingers; it takes a
lot out of a girl, you know.”
Sebastian smiled, kissed her hand, and rolled
over to go to sleep.
Tristen moved close to Sebastian and put her
arm around him. “There was no lullaby,” she
said. Sebastian looked over his shoulder and
saw the sad look on her face.
He pulled her into an embrace. “Tris,” he
began, “it doesn’t always happen on the first
try. Sometimes not even on the second or
third try, either.” Tristen sighed impatiently.
“I know, but I was still hoping to have a baby
right away,” she closed her eyes and listened
to Sebastian’s slow, steady heartbeat.
Sebastian caressed her shoulder.
“What about your new job and all the Spirit
Hands Jazz Fingers thing?”
“Jazz Hands Spirit Fingers,” Tristen corrected
him, “and I know. You’re right,” Tristen didn’t
feel like starting an argument about how
important babies were to a Family Sim such
as herself; especially since she knew that
Sebastian was a lot smarter than her, “it’ll
happen when it happens.”
Sebastian kissed her forehead and they both
The next afternoon, Sebastian found himself
startled as Tristen ran into the house sobbing.
Immediately pulling her into a consoling hug,
he barely was able to get out the words
asking her what was wrong.
“I dropped the Spirit Stick!” Tristen cried, her
shoulders shaking with sobs. Sebastian’s
brow furrowed slightly, trying to understand
what the problem was.
“So what? What does that mean?” he asked,
confused. He never claimed to know the
inner workings of Cheerleader Culture. His
wife was soon to educate him.
“So what?! SO WHAT?! I got FIRED
Sebastian. Dropping the Spirit Stick means
bad luck for the squad, and three times the
bad luck for the person who dropped it! First,
there was no lullaby and now THIS! I’m
Sebastian pulled away slightly and looked her
firmly in the eye. “Tristen, that’s just plain
superstition and completely illogical. Not
getting pregnant last night and you dropping
the Spirit Stick today are not tied together.
You most certainly are NOT cursed…”
“But…” Tristen interrupted. Sebastian
“No buts, Tris. I don’t want to see you
beating yourself up over superstitions.”
“Besides,” he continued, dipping her down
for a kiss, “that just means that we’ll get more
chances to try for a baby.”
Tristen wasn’t so sure that Sebastian was right
about her not being cursed, but she was
more than willing to have more chances to
Of course, that was the moment that Ansley
came home from work. As her mind violently
tried to block out the image of her son with
his wife, she quickly covered her eyes and
cleared her throat. Tristen and Sebastian
quickly got up from the couch, Sebastian
looking embarrassed and Tristen looking
disgruntled; there still was no lullaby.
It was not for lack of trying; Sebastian gave
himself that. He knew that there was no such
thing as infertility for Sims…unless the deity of
the Mini-verse had determined that there
would be. He never met the author, though
his mother told him stories about how back in
the day, the author was far more involved
with interacting with the family. He wished
he knew who she was, so he could give her a
piece of his mind. He absolutely hated
seeing the downtrodden look on Tristen’s
face and he blamed the author for it.
It also didn’t help that Tristen still believed in
the bad luck bestowed upon her for dropping
the Spirit Stick. He cringed inwardly when he
saw Tristen looking for four leaf clovers,
wishing upon stars, and even going as far as
asking a genie to grant her wish for a baby.
“And THEN the genie said that even though
he could grant me three wishes, having a
baby was not on the list. THEN he said that I
could have eternal happiness, and THEN I
said that having a baby WOULD give me
eternal happiness. And THEN he said that I
wasn’t cursed. And THEN I said…”
“Tris,” Sebastian said, interrupting her tirade,
“the genie is right. You are NOT cursed. The
genie would know, him being magic and all.”
Tristen rolled her eyes.
“What does a genie know about the Spirit
Stick curse? Maybe he knows all about magic
stuff, but maybe the Spirit Stick curse is even
more powerful than an old, stupid purple
genie,” she exclaimed.
“That is the most STUPID thing I have EVER
heard!” Sebastian exploded, having enough
of the entire conversation.
Tristen, hurt, climbed out of the hot tub with
as much dignity that she could muster. She
wiped a tear that fell from her eye. Without
looking at him she said, “That is the most
meanest meanie thing I have ever heard you
say, Sebastian Devereaux. You might think
that it’s stupid and not important. But it’s
important to me,” and she walked into the
Sebastian took a deep breath and slid under
the water, counting the seconds slowly before
he had to come up for air.
Later that night, around bedtime, Tristen
found herself engrossed, reading accounts
from “Real Life Cheerleaders!” suffering from
the Spirit Stick curse and how they coped
with their problems.
“Listen to this. ‘Oh my God, like, I totally
dropped the Spirit Stick and my life has been,
like, TOTALLY sucktastic. First, I sprained my
ankle because the person who was supposed
to catch me missed. And then, like, I got a
pimple right before the prom! And then, like,
my BOYFRIEND dumped me for another
cheerleader. AS IF! Like, I’m TOTALLY the
Varsity Captain. The curse has, like, really
messed up my life!’ See ‘bastian, the curse is
really REAL!” Tristen smiled at him with
Sebastian, feeling a migraine coming on,
rubbed his forehead. “Oh…my…FRELLING
GOD, Tristen! Please don’t tell me that you
are reading high school B.S. drama and taking
it for validation of a curse! Please, please,
PLEASE tell me that you aren’t.”
Tristen, feeling more hurt than she had earlier
that day, got up from the computer, walked
downstairs, turned on the television, and
cranked the volume up high. Her heart
burned in her chest with sadness.
Sebastian sighed, and got up to follow Tristen.
Ansley who, along with Hunter, had heard
everything, stepped in front of him.
“Sebastian, let her be. Anything you say to
her right now will just hurt her feelings more.”
Sebastian looked at his mother and sighed.
“Mom, she thinks she’s cursed because she
dropped some stupid stick…”
Ansley motioned for him to stop. “I know
how you feel Sebastian, and you are
correct in thinking the way you do. The
author might make other parts of the
family infertile, but you are the heir.
“And I also happen to know for a fact that
she likes you. What harm is it to let Tristen
think she is cursed? We both know that
she isn’t, and you will eventually produce
an heir or three. You both just need to
relax and let it happen.”
Sebastian just looked doubtfully at his
Ansley pulled out a gift and handed it to
Sebastian. “Here. Take this. It’s the deed to
a beach house in Twikkii Island that your
father and I bought for you for your wedding.
It’s also a gift to show how proud we are at
how you stepped up to the plate regarding
the heirship. Why don’t you and Tristen go
on a vacation. Relax a little. Have some fun
in the sun. Take a powder. However you
want to say it. You both really need to
Sebastian took the gift with a lopsided smile,
“Thanks Mom, I really appreciate it. Did you
really mean what you said about the author
liking me?” Ansley kissed her son’s cheek.
“Abso’freakin’lutely,” she replied with a smile,
“now, why don’t you go downstairs and tell
Tristen that you are booking a vacation. Your
father and I can hold down the fort for the
Sebastian nodded with a grin, and walked
down the stairs with a slight spring in his step.
Hunter, hearing everything, walked up to
Ansley and caressed her. “You are an
amazing mother,” he said adoringly to her.
Ansley smiled at Hunter and placed her hand
on his chest. “That’s only because I have an
amazing husband. I wouldn’t be who I am
today if it weren’t for you.”
Downstairs, Sebastian approached Tristen.
She turned off the television, got up, and
softly placed her hand in his own
outstretched one. Grasping it softly,
Sebastian smiled at his wife and softly said,
“Hey Tris, how about you and I go on a
Lillian stared at herself in the mirror noticing
that though she was in her third trimester of
her pregnancy, the signs were not evident.
She was pleased. Though she made it a point
not to leave her house since her brother’s
wedding, she didn’t want to take the chance
that the paper boy or mailman would spread
rumors, and have them get back to her family.
Staying beneath the radar was always her
MO; until her plans came to fruition that is.
Lillian turned away from the mirror when she
head a shuffling behind her. Her lips twisted
slightly in what some might consider a smile.
“Your mother eats the fungus from the feet of
lepers,” she taunted the waiting figure.
Remington’s face muscles twitched,
uncontrollably, as he replied, “I’ve been
meaning to speak to her about that.” Lillian
nodded to herself, pleased that there was no
resistance from him. He was going to be an
“What have you to report, Man Maid?” she
“It seems that the current heir has failed to
produce a child so far,” Remington replied as
his head lolled to the side, “There also seems
to be tensions arising between him and his
“I am the heir!” Lillian hissed, “Never refer to
HIM as heir again!” Remington just nodded in
Then Lillian cackled gleefully. “Excellent.
Now, all we have to do now is wait until my
child is born and prevent my brother’s wife
from reproducing. Have you placed the ad?”
“Yes, but it will take a week or so for it to
appear in the newspaper. Aren’t you worried
that other people will inquire?”
“Ah. I will simply tell them that the product is
sold out,” she dismissively replied.
“Very clever, my mistress. You spoke earlier
of your impending childbirth. When is that
going to happen?”
As if on cue, Lillian felt a stabbing contraction.
“It appears, Man Maid, that it is happening
now.” Lillian tried very hard not to scream in
front of the reanimated help.
Remington watched impassively. “Ah, so it
appears,” he said. Then a small smile slipped
through, “I suppose now would not be a
good time to inform you, then, that your
brother and his wife decided to go on
vacation. So the ad that was placed won’t be
seen by them. You might have to run it
Lillian’s screams echoed through the night. If
there were neighbors in the vicinity, they
might wonder if it was a scream of pain, or
one of anger.
But, Lillian had no neighbors; so the unasked
question would remain unanswered.
After what felt like her entire insides being
ripped out, Lillian examined her newborn
son. Without a hint of a smile she spoke to
him, “Zane, you will be the most perfect
specimen to carry on the Legacy after I
reclaim the throne.”
Zane looked at his mother curiously, and
reached out to pull at her nose. Lillian pulled
her head away and glared at him sternly. “I
think not child. Now is not the time for play.
Part three of my plan has come to pass, yet I
still have to wait for part two to happen. We
must not get too far ahead of ourselves.”
It was then that she smiled; it was not a smile
of kindness, but Zane was unable to tell the
difference at such a young age, so he smiled
innocently back. When he was placed in his
crib, he slept contentedly while his mother
watched over him with a small, cruel smile.
Sebastian looked over at Tristen to see her
reaction to the beach house. Beach estate,
he mentally corrected himself. Seeing that
her face was expressionless, he asked her, “So
Tris, what do you think?”
Tristen turned and threw her arms around him
and planted a big kiss on his lips. “Oh! It is
the most perfectly perfect funnest looking
place in the whole wide world, sweetie!” she
exclaimed. “I am so totally glad that we
decided to come here.”
Sebastian grinned happily at her enthusiasm;
it was the first genuine smile he had seen
from her in days.
After inspecting the house that they would be
living in for the next week, the bedroom in
particular, the pair laid on the beach and
watched the waves roll in. Tristen snuggled
close to Sebastian and sighed.
“So, when we DO have babies, what do you
think we should name them? I like Paige for a
girl and Rick for a boy. What do you think?”
Sebastian succeeded in not sighing and just
kissed her nose.
“Tris…how about we not think about it right
now, okay? The point of this vacation is to
relax and not feel pressured. Why don’t we
just have FUN and worry about babies and
baby names when we get back home. I just
want to spend time with you. How does that
sound?” Tristen bit her lip, but just nodded in
However, when night fell, Tristen was feeling
a bit restless. Seeing that Sebastian looked
ready to settle in for the night, she called out
to him, “I’m gonna go poke around the
village for a while, wanna come with?”
“Nah, you go on ahead,” he replied back,
“the jet lag is starting to catch up with me. Be
Tristen was only slightly disappointed that
Sebastian didn’t join her. However, she felt it
would be for the best, as he usually showed
a disdain for all things superstitious. And where
she REALLY wanted to go, a place she read
about online, was about as voodoo and
superstitious as one could get.
Finding the Witchdoctor was easier than she
thought. Of course, now that his patented
Mr. Mickles was a rather commercial product,
she figured that the entire ‘Secret Hut’ thing
was more of a marketing gimmick than an
actual ploy to deter people. In fact, she
downright suspected that the man standing in
front of her wasn’t even the real Witchdoctor,
but someone dressed like him; kind of like a
mall Santa Claus.
“And I don’t even have to PAY for Mr.
Mickles?” Tristen asked the suspected
“Not in any form of actual simoleons.
However, you do need to pay in favors,” the
man replied, affecting a rather fake sounding
old man voice.
Tristen had absolutely no problems
performing the maintenance tasks. She,
however, DID have a problem with the man
watching her backside waggle in the air as
she fit her arm under the dishwasher.
She didn’t say anything though. If that was
what it took to get Mr. Mickles, then she felt
she could grin and bear it.
Her patience did not disappoint. “Mr.
Mickles will give me what I want?” she asked
The man grinned under his mask, “Oh, of
course. After a fashion it gives everyone what
they want,” he replied in a used car salesman
Tristen jumped up into the air in a
spontaneous cheer. “Awesome-o 2000!” she
The Witchdoctor watched with interest,
“THAT’S where I recognize you from. I saw
you in an X-Treme Cheerleading competition
a few years back on ESPN 8, ‘The Ocho’!”
And he trailed off, distracted, clearly in his
Tristen, for her part, didn’t notice. She had
glanced outside and saw that the sun was
rising and she needed to get back to
Sebastian; he had planned for them to go to
some boring ancient ruins. She quickly said
her goodbyes and hurried back to the beach
“Tris, aren’t you tired?” Sebastian asked, “You
were out all night…”
“I’m really, really fine ’bastian,” she
interrupted. The ruins were really boring, like
she had thought they would be, but Sebastian
seemed to like them so she was willing to
feign interest . She stopped in her tracks as
something of TRUE interest caught her eye.
Glancing back at her husband she continued
with, “But I’m super duper hungry. Can you
get us some food? I just want to see this real
Sebastian shrugged and went to the food
counter to order food with the ever present
pineapple in it.
Tristen walked up to the intimidating water
fountain and noticed that there were a bunch
of coins strewn about in the water. Realizing
that it was a wishing fountain, Tristen pulled
out a coin of her own.
As she glanced at the coin in her hand, she
felt her wish in the deepest part of her heart.
“I know that Mr. Mickles will grant me what I
want,” she said softly to herself, “but a little
extra luck won’t hurt.” She closed her eyes
and made her wish.
I wish to have babies, she thought, and she
tossed the coin into the water. After
watching it sink directly to the bottom, she
waited for a moment as if expecting to hear a
lullaby right then and there. She then shook
her head with a smile and skipped back to
Sebastian to eat their food.
After exploring the ruins thoroughly, the two
of them made their way back home. Barely
containing her excitement, Tristen
immediately pulled out the Mr. Mickles doll
and made her most desired wish.
“Make me pregnant with Sebastian’s baby
Mr. Mickles,” she commanded the doll. As
the doll began to glow in a strange red light,
Tristen’s heart began to beat faster.
In fact, her heart began to beat too fast. She
dropped Mr. Mickles as her skin began to feel
overly flushed, sweat running down her face.
“I don’t think this is what’s supposed to
happen…” Tristen said, her vision tunneling to
Sebastian, who was heading into the house,
looked back at Tristen in time to see her
collapse. His heart lurched in his throat as he
ran as fast as he could to her still form. “Oh
my God, Tristen!” he said in a panicked tone.
He knelt down beside her, cradling her head
in his arms as he patted her cheek. “Come
on honey, wake up!”
Groggily, Tristen was roused. Blinking slowly,
she managed to get herself in an upright
sitting position. Looking up at Sebastian, she
saw that he was holding Mr. Mickles, looking
at the doll like it was a piece of stinky
“Where did you get this, Tris?” Sebastian
asked in a worried tone. Instead of
answering, Tristen tried to stand up, but found
that her legs wouldn’t support her weight.
Sebastian, fortunately, managed to catch her.
Tossing the doll to the side, he picked Tristen
up. Tristen’s eyes began to close again as she
fainted on his shoulder. Sebastian carried her
to bed, chest thumping with worry the entire
Tristen sighed irritably as she lay on the
hammock. I’m surprised I’m allowed to do
this much, she thought to herself. Ever since
the episode with the Mr. Mickles doll,
Sebastian had been hovering over her like an
over protective mother hen. Even though she
tried to convince him that she had only
passed out from exhaustion, he had a rather
vexing ability to see the truth.
He had also thrown the offending doll out,
overriding her protests that it wasn’t Mr.
Mickles’ fault. “My mother said that there is
to be no evil magic allowed in the
household,” he told her patiently, “and this
doll made you very sick, Tris. What can be
more evil than that?”
Not being able to have babies yet is pretty
evil, she continued with her inner
monologue. She closed her eyes as she
heard Sebastian walking up to her.
“How are you doing, Tris?” Sebastian asked.
“Fine.” Tristen curtly responded in the
patented female tone that indicated that
everything was NOT fine at all.
Sebastian sighed. “I was figuring, if you were
feeling up to it, that maybe you and I could
go on that helicopter tour we read about in
the tourist pamphlet.”
“I don’t know ‘bastian. Do you think I might
be strong enough?” she asked meanly, still
keeping her eyes closed.
Sebastian rolled his eyes at her tone.
“Whatever Tristen,” he snapped back at her,
turning to walk away.
Tristen let out an exasperated sigh as she got
up from the hammock. “Wait hon,” she
called after him, “I do want to go.” She
summoned a smile to her face as she
mentally added, It might be the last fun thing
I’m allowed to do on this vacation.
However much she tried to convince herself
that she was fine though, she found that the
loud helicopter was making her head pound.
She took a deep breath and smiled at
However, it didn’t stop her from groaning
audibly when he placed his hand on her arm
as if to keep her steady. “I’m fine,” she
snapped, pulling her arm away. Sebastian
gave her a hurt look.
“I was only trying to…”
“Stop treating me like a BABY!” she shot back
at him as she settled into the seat.
It turned out that Tristen wasn’t fine though.
As soon as the tour was over, Tristen jumped
from the helicopter and lost her lunch all over
the pavement; unable to hide her sickness
That, compounded with the fact that she
fainted again that night, made Sebastian
come up with a rather unfair (in her opinion)
“Bed rest,” Sebastian said to her when she
awoke in the bed, “all of these activities are
clearly agitating your body. You need to rest
and recover fully.”
“But that’s not fair! I thought this vacation
was supposed to be about relaxing and
“Is this FUN for you? Do you think this is fun
for ME? Tris, you can barely stomach down
any food and you keep getting sick and
passing out. All because you thought that
some stupid voodoo doll was going to make
“How did you…”
“I KNOW you, that’s how.”
Tristen plaintively sighed. “If you loved me…”
Sebastian interrupted her again, angrily this
time. “I DO love you. For God’s sake Tristen,
I’m WORRIED about you. GAH! You know
what? I’m done with this conversation. If you
don’t think I love you, then fine. Whatever.”
He snatched up his pillow and went
downstairs to sleep on the couch.
Two days before their vacation ended,
Sebastian found himself watching the sunrise
over the ocean. He had only spent one night
sleeping on the couch, as he and Tristen
made up the next day. However, he was still
upset by her thought that he didn’t love her.
He idly picked up a beach stone and chucked
it into the oncoming waves.
He glanced over his shoulder as he heard
Tristen softly kneel down next to him. He
watched as she mindlessly started digging
in the sand.
“You DO know that I love you, right Tris?”
he asked her.
Tristen half shrugged in response, “Yeah. I
know,” she said, not looking at him.
Sebastian sighed and stood up, reaching
his hand out to her to help her up.
He gently rubbed her back, caressing the
soft skin. “I don’t mean to be so over
protective,” he began, willing her to
understand, “it’s just…well, if anything bad
happened to you. Well, I would die. I’m
sorry if it comes across as mean. The last
thing I want to do is hurt your feelings,
you know?” Tristen only nodded in
He sighed and kissed her neck. “Hey, I
know, how about we go to the spa and
get a massage, hm?”
Tristen looked at him. “I…” she began,
ready to reply with a snarky comment.
She saw the pensive look in his eye and
she decided against it. “…would love to
go. That sounds like super duper fun!”
And it WAS fun. Tristen smiled sleepily as
the stones worked their relaxing heat into
her tense muscles. “Mmmmm. God,”
she groaned, “you HAVE to teach this to
Amy, the massage therapist, just smiled.
“If your husband wishes to learn this
technique, then he’ll have to pay $500 for
Tristen lethargically waved her hand, “Oh,
he’ll pay it. He likes learning new things…
Oh! That’s the spot!”
And the rest of the massage was silent
except for a few appreciative sighs.
Sebastian, on the other hand, was brooding.
After tomorrow, all the baby pressure is on
again. He scoffed to himself. Rather, it’s
going to continue. He sighed heavily. The
vacation was alright, but with Tristen’s idiotic
beliefs in curses, voodoo, and superstition, all
leading to her unwittingly hurting herself, he
was looking forward to going home.
Back home where it’s sane. He laughed out
loud. How pathetic is that when I’m
considering all the stuff going on at home as
sanity. Ugh. He rested his head in his hands
as he continued to laugh. Fortunately for
him, nobody else had joined him in the
Lillian watched the fluttering birds that were
outside her window with a strong hint of
paranoia. The more time she spent trapped
in the house, the stronger her suspicions
She was being watched.
“Momma?” The small voice from behind
made her jump a bit.
Lillian walked over to the small child, now a
toddler, and picked him up. Looking sternly
at him she asked, “What is it, my child?”
Zane giggled and pointed, “Who is that
strange person and what is he doing?” he
asked, his communication skills far beyond his
Lillian looked to where the boy was pointing.
“Ah. That is Man Maid, my dear boy. He is
an idiot. Pay him no attention, except as a
reminder to you to always remember to do as
I say. Otherwise you will be punished, as the
wretched Man Maid was.”
Zane pondered her statement. “Okay
Momma,” he replied with a sweet smile, “can
I hear a story now?”
Lillian, of course, was more than willing to tell
Zane tales of comeuppance. “And then,
Zane, do you know what the Three Bears did
Zane, enthralled asked her, “What Momma?”
“They ate her up! For you see, Goldilocks
was a wicked girl. She had broken into the
Three Bears’ house, ate the food that they
had worked so very hard for, dirtied up their
furniture and mussed their beds! What a
shameful thing for her to do. Goldilocks’
mother had taught her much better than that,
but Goldilocks was a very naughty,
disobedient girl. So the Three Bears taught
her to folly of her ways. Do you know what
the lesson of this story is, my son?”
Zane, squirming with delight answered with a
Lillian jumped into his face, “That you should
always listen to your mother!” she responded
Zane clapped and giggled. He loved it when
his mother played and goofed around with
him, even if it only was during story time.
Lillian, seeing that Zane was responding the
way she had hoped, patted her son on his
head. “Alright my child, that is enough. I am
going to go upstairs and make your vitamins
for Man Maid to give you. They will help you
grow big and strong real fast. For tomorrow
is your birthday.”
Zane was confused, “But today was my
Lillian nodded, “Yes, and tomorrow you shall
have another one. Do you not want to grow
big and strong?”
“Good, then play quietly until Man Maid
gives you your vitamins.” And with a final pat,
she strode out of the room.
Zane played on his security blanket, softly
singing a song to himself, “Ring around the
rosy. A pocket full of posies. Ashes, ashes,
we all fall down!” And he fell onto his back
laughing at his game. He loved his mother;
his beautiful, wonderful mother who taught
him that song and read him bedtime stories.
Meanwhile, in the attic, Lillian threw in the
ingredients for Zane’s ‘Fast Grow’ potions
and stirred them all together. When she
completed it, she added a bit of strawberry
flavored extract, to ensure that the boy will
have no problems drinking the concoction.
Potion mixed and handed to Remington, and
thus the boy, Lillian took a moment to sit
down and read a bit while she collected her
thoughts. I think that will be the last one I
give him, she thought. I can’t have him be a
teenager quite yet, it’s too soon. Almost
there, but not quite.
“Yes,” she continued out loud , “far too soon.
I must wait for Sebastian to come back from
his little trip.”
“Oh Sebastian, you stupid, stupid boy. How
easy it will be for me to claim what is
rightfully mine. Just a little while longer…”
The next evening, Zane was once again
singing to himself while he played with his
blocks, “Happy Birthday to Zane. Happy
Birthday to Zane. Happy Birthday to Zane.
Happy Birthday to Zane.” He looked up with
a smile as his mother walked into his
bedroom. He held up his arms to have her
pick him up.
“Is it birthday time Momma?” he asked as he
snuggled against her.
“Yes my son, it is. Are you prepared?”
“Yes! I want to be a big boy now!”
“Indeed,” Lillian replied, setting her son on
If Zane was disappointed at the lack of a
birthday cake, he didn’t show it. He smiled
up at his mother as she began lecturing him.
“Zane, now that you are bigger you must
begin to prepare your skills. You will inherit
the Legacy after I do, and it is always best to
“Okay Momma,” he replied still smiling,
“does this mean I get to go to school now?”
Lillian paused for a moment, appalled, before
responding. “Absolutely not! I can teach you
far better than any idiot teacher can. Do you
not wish to continue to be here with me all
day instead of leaving and going to a strange
Zane turned away from his mother, not
wishing to show his disappointment. “Yes
Momma, I want to be here with you.”
Lillian smiled down at her obedient son.
“This will be for the best. You shall see that I
am right in all matters.”
“Yes Momma. I know you are Momma.”
However, when Lillian left the room, Zane
dropped glumly to the floor and picked at his
boots. He liked playing with Man Maid and
his mother, but sometimes he really wanted
to play with some other kids, too.
Sebastian and Tristen received a warm
welcome home. Ansley hugged Sebastian
gingerly as she saw the bright red sunburn on
him. “Ouch,” she said, “did you have that the
Sebastian laughed, “Nah. I just got it
yesterday, thank God. Tris lucked out on
getting the nice tan.”
Ansley looked Sebastian in the eye.
Sebastian, understanding the questioning
look, just shook his head in response. He
tried very hard not to look disappointed.
Ansley closed her eyes and sighed.
It took about a week to settle back in. A
week to get reacquainted with their jobs, and
more comfortably, a week to lose the itchy,
peeling, sunburned skin; at least for
Tristen, on one of the more idle days after
settling back in, found a moment to herself.
She took the opportunity to read the sports
section of the newspaper to see how her
former cheer squad was faring after the Spirit
They were doing fine. However, that wasn’t
what captivated her attention. An ad that
was placed there was what really caught her
“Dr. Bob’s Fertile Myrtle Fertility Formula,”
she whispered to herself, excitement rising,
“that is EXACTLY what I need.”
She popped her head over the newspaper to
see if anyone was in the room. When she
saw that she was alone, she took the paper to
the phone and dialed the local phone
number listed in the ad.
“Hello?” the voice answering the phone said
in an irritated tone.
“Hello, yes. Who do I talk to about ordering
the Fertility Formula?” Tristen asked with a
Lillian sighed irritably. She was getting tired of
all the phone calls and she was contemplating
on changing her phone number.
“That all depends. Who am I speaking to?”
“Oh. This is Tristen Devereaux. Do I have the
Lillian straightened up and changed the tone
of her voice. “Ah. Yes. You can place your
order with me. How many bottles would you
“Is one enough?”
“More than. I will put you down for one
bottle. I can have it delivered tonight if you
“I will take that as a ‘yes’ then. Please have
the cash available. You can just give it to the
Lillian hung up the phone and looked at it
with a smirk. It was too easy.
Tristen, excited for night to come, skipped out
to the garbage can and buried the newspaper
under some of the waste. She didn’t want to
ruin the surprise for Sebastian. She also
didn’t want him to become all over protective
again and take the Formula away from her.
She felt a little bad keeping secrets from him;
but when she came up pregnant, it would be
completely worth it.
It never occurred to her that the woman on
the telephone didn’t ask for Tristen’s home
“Sebastian, I already made the appointment,”
Ansley said to her rather embarrassed son.
Ansley thought about how best to broach the
subject with her child. In the end, she felt
straight forward was the best. “It doesn’t hurt
to just get checked out. Won’t you both feel
so much better when you find out that there
is nothing physically wrong with either of
Sebastian rubbed his head in frustration.
“Yeah, Mom, it would. But you could have at
least asked first.”
Ansley rolled her eyes. “Well Sebastian, you
can either go to the clinic, or I can check you
out here. Which would you prefer?”
His eyes went wide and his cheeks flushed at
the horrible picture in his mind. Ansley just
“That’s what I thought. Your appointment is
in half and hour. You should probably leave
now if you are to make it in time. Good
“Thanks,” Sebastian responded, making the
sarcasm clear in his tone.
As Tristen and Sebastian walked to their
appointment, Tristen looked the building over
with a curious eye. “This doesn’t look like a
hospital to me,” she said in a critical tone.
Sebastian, thinning patience evident in his
voice, responded without looking back at her.
“That’s because it’s not. It’s a clinic.”
It was only the two of them who sat in the
waiting room. Apparently the clinic was
usually closed on Sundays, but Ansley
managed to pull a few strings. The two of
them were silent as they waited for the
doctor, who greeted them warmly.
“Ah, hello Mr. and Mrs. Devereaux. I’m
pleased to finally meet you. I’m Dr. Blythe,
but you can call me Gilbert if you would like.
Mr. Devereaux, your mother was a good
friend to me while we both worked at the
hospital together. I’m glad I can return the
favor to her.” He smiled down at the tense
Sebastian just nodded, looking at a picture on
the wall across from him. “Yeah. Thanks. So,
can we get this over with?”
Dr. Blythe nodded, “Oh, absolutely. Which
one of you wants to go first?”
Sebastian stood up and sighed, “I will,” he
hated being poked and prodded, so he
wanted the embarrassing examination to be
over as soon as possible. As he followed Dr.
Blythe into the exam room, Tristen put her
hand out and touched Sebastian’s arm in a
When Tristen’s own examination was done,
she looked over at the doctor. “So, is there
anything wrong with my body?” she asked in
a worried tone. The doctor shook his head.
“Not that I can see, Mrs. Devereaux. But I
need to run your blood work through the plot
exposition machine in the corner.”
“The what?” Tristen asked, confused.
“You know, the machines that they use on
CSI? Normally those machines take hours, or
even days, to gather the data; but my clinic
was fortunate enough to get a hold of one of
the CSI ones, so it should only take about five
or ten minutes. If you will just sit in the
waiting room, I will spare you the ‘examining
blood work’ montage.”
Montage over and inspirational music turned
off, Dr. Blythe gathered his two waiting
patients an led them into his office. He
waited until he sat down before delivering
them the news.
“Both of you are perfectly fine and healthy.
There is no reason for either of you to think
that you are incapable of having children.”
Sebastian smiled with relief. “So pretty much
what you’re saying Dr. Blythe, is that we just
need to relax? It’ll happen when it happens?”
The doctor nodded. “I know that the
pressure is on, you being a Legacy heir, and
your wife being a Family Sim, but yes. Just
relax. The stress of ‘trying’ to have a baby
often times is counter productive.”
Tristen said nothing. All she could think of
was that neither of them understood.
As they both got into the taxi, Tristen smiled
to herself. She was getting the Fertility
Formula tonight. All the talk of not stressing
out was making her…stress out. But that was
going to change. She was getting pregnant
She could barely eat, she was so excited. She
kept looking out the window, waiting for the
delivery man. Her patience was rewarded
when eventually, an almost familiar looking
zombie dressed in a UPS uniform walked up
to the house.
She ran outside to greet him, not wanting
anyone in the house to hear the doorbell ring.
The UPS delivery zombie smiled as he
handed her the package. “Tristen
Devereaux?” the zombie asked. She nodded.
“Okay ma’am, just sign right here. And that
will be $21.39. Taxes you know.”
Tristen handed him $25 and told the delivery
zombie to keep the change as a tip. She
suppressed the urge to hug him as she
slipped the potion bottle into her pocket.
She sauntered inside the house and grabbed
Sebastian, giving him a huge kiss. “Meet me
in the bedroom. Five minutes. Wear as little
clothing as possible,” she said in a seductive
voice. Sebastian grinned widely and
“Wow,” Sebastian appreciatively said as
Tristen entered the bedroom, “how YOU
Tristen brushed a strand of hair from her face
and jutted her hips in a pose, “Pretty good,
how ‘bout yourself?”
Sebastian grinned and waggled his eyebrows
“Just let me drink this, and then I’ll join you,”
Tristen said as she pulled out the potion
Sebastian gave a startled jerk. “What, wait,
what is that?” and he started to get out of the
It was too late though, Tristen gulped the
entire bottle down before Sebastian could
take it away from her. She smiled at him. “It’s
okay, it’ll help us have a--” her words were
cut off as a stabbing pain cut through her
She fell to the floor in what seemed like slow
motion to Sebastian. As he, in what also felt
like slow motion, tried to reach her, he felt a
distinct chill as a third figure entered the
“Suicides. Those also make my job
interesting,” Grim said in his non-booming
voice. The person he was collecting was
already dead, so there was no need to
impress and intimidate. He shook his head as
he flipped through the names on his
“Babies,” I said to the small girl I was holding
in my arm, “babies always brighten up a
mood. Yes they do. And you, my little
genetic experiment, are the perfect
distraction from that last depressing scene.”
I heard Keith sigh as he walked over to me to
take the child from my arms. Of course, he
was STILL in his underwear. I sincerely think
he has a problem.
“Her name is Amelia, Ang. She’s not going to
appreciate you calling her Genetic
Experiment,” he said as he carried our
daughter to her birthday cake.
“…oh, who am I kidding,” I replied, “Amelia is
absolutely precious. I hope any real kid we
have looks half as good as she does.” And I
pulled out a noisemaker to celebrate Amelia
turning into a toddler.
And, of course she is. She has my eyes and
hair color, and Keith’s cheeks. She’s going to
be heartbreaker when she gets older.
Keith carried Amelia upstairs to change her
into a princess dress. Apparently he IS aware
that dressers work. I think he just likes
strutting around and showing off the
idealized version of his body.
As he snuggled Amelia to him, he looked
curiously out the window at a faint, strange
sound he suddenly heard.
“Ang?” he called down the stairs, interrupting
my random bottle juggling, “Is that sound
normal for this game?”
I put the bottles away. “What sound is he
And then I heard it. “Uh, oh. That’s not a
“Huh…well doesn’t THAT suck…”
Thank you all for reading. Oh, and a special
thanks to my husband for the Photo Shopped
pictures. He has a talent for it, as I do not.
I’m sure the rebuild won’t be too painful and
as I said before, I’m kinda looking forward to
a fresh game. I can see this picking back up
in a month or so.
So, until then, Happy Simming!
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