Quintessence Bonus Content

“Why is everyone always around the house at the moment?”

Sascha frowned at Devon. “What?”

He blinked at her. “Everyone’s always here.” 

“Yes,” she murmured slowly, a little confused as to why he was confused. 

“Why?”

Shaking her head, she muttered, “God give me strength.”

“I don’t think he’s listening, lass, if he were, he’d have made this tit listen to the news more.” Sawyer snorted. “Devon, sweet Jesus, ye cannae have slept through a feckin’ pandemic.”

“I haven’t slept in a few days.” 

Well, that explained why he was blinking owlishly at her, Sascha thought dryly. Two nursing babies made it a lot harder to keep track of him though. Especially when he appeared out of nowhere to take one of the girls from her in the middle of the night, would lay at her side, just holding her, while supporting Sascha and watching the event. 

In fact, they were some of the most beautiful moments of her life, knowing he was propping her up, that she could drift off to sleep with him watching over them, protecting them. 

It just meant that she never knew if he slept or not, and apparently, he wasn’t. 

Damn. 

“Devon, what’s COVID?”

He frowned at Sean. “COVID? A computer game?”

Andrei snickered. “My God, you truly don’t know what we’re talking about, do you?”

For the first time, his scowl darkened, and she saw his rare temper flicker to life. “I wouldn’t have asked, Andrei, if I knew what it was.”

“It’s a virus, Dev,” she said slowly. Not because he was a fool, but because she was hoping to prick his memory. “Surely you’ve heard us talking about it?”

“Not really. Sometimes, you all just talk.” He shrugged. “I don’t process everything.”

“Like we dinnae already feckin’ ken that,” Sawyer said with an eye roll. “I feel like half the shite I spout you dinnae listen to.”

“Well, if you didn’t spout shite, maybe I would.”

Kurt laughed. “You can’t accuse him of that when we’re talking about something important.”

“Why is the computer game important?” 

“Fuck’s sake,” Sawyer muttered. 

“It isn’t a computer game,” Kurt said drolly, then his expression turned somber. “It’s a virus. A bad one. A terrible one. Lots of people have died, Devon.”

His eyes widened. “They have?” His back straightened. “Jacinta? Hamish? Are they okay?”

Sawyer’s temper deflated at that. “Aye, bruv, they’re well. We can speak to them tonight.”

“No, not tonight,” Sascha insisted. “Tonight, Devon is coming to bed. To sleep.”

“Sleeeeeeeep,” Tin chortled, clapping his hands together like he was crashing two cymbals together. “Sleeeeeeeeeep. Sleeeeeeeep.”

Devon’s smile was grim. “I wish I felt that way about it.”

She reached over, squeezed his hand. “We need to switch you off sometimes, Data.”

“My name’s Devon.”

“We need to watch more Next Gen.”

Sean grimaced. “I almost regret showing you that on Netflix.”

She grinned at him cheekily. “You know I love that you look like Riker.”

He snorted. “Compliments… you’re so good with them.”

“Be grateful she doesn’t have us dressing up like prats in tights,” Sawyer muttered, then laughed when she tossed a piece of her croissant at him. 

“For that, I might just get you a costume.”

“Ye can try, lass, but it doesnae mean we’ll wear the fecker.”

Mischief had her shooting an impish grin at him. “We’ll see.”

“If you have me dressing up like something from Star Trek, I’ll get you a costume too.”

She tipped her head to the side. “I might be amenable to that. Which costume?”

“See? This is what I was saying. What are you actually talking about right now?” Devon inserted gruffly, his gaze darting between them all as he tried to compute what they were discussing. 

“Data, Data, Data!” Tin bellowed, loud enough to make them all wince. 

She hushed him by giving him a sippy cup of juice. “Devon, are you all right?”

“Yes, I just have a headache.”

Her brow puckered. “You do?”

He sighed. “Yeah.” Then he rubbed his eyes. 

“Where are your glasses?” 

She cut Sawyer a look. “You think he needs a new prescription?”

“No,” he said with a sniff. “I think he needs to wear the bastards.”

“Bastards, bastards, bastards!” 

“Why does he have to say everything three times?” Sean asked no one in particular, before he sternly stated, “Valentin! That’s a rude word.”

Tin gaped at him. “Is?”

“Yes. Is.” Sean sighed. “Sawyer, you need to watch your mouth.”

“Ye cannae stop me swearing. It’s a part of my national identity.”

Sascha hooted. “That’s a good one.”

He winked. “I’m the best.” Then, apparently sensing Dev’s growing impatience, he muttered, “Where are your glasses, Devon?”

“I think they’re on my desk.”

Sawyer rolled his eyes. “You don’t have a desk.”

“I do.”

“No, you did. Back in Kensington. Now you work in my sitting room. On my coffee table,” she pointed out. Jesus, how out of it was he? 

Ever since Sawyer’s illness, he spaced out more, and even though she’d made him go to the doctor—something he hadn’t appreciated—he was fine. Physically. Sean said he was just prone to episodes, and that the extended almost-fugue state he’d been in while Sawyer was ill was like a muscle memory for his mind. It was easier for him to escape than it had been before.

They were working on it. 

As with everything in her life, it was a work in progress, and while he concerned her, she trusted that Sean knew what he was talking about. 

“Oh yes, I forgot about that.” He narrowed his eyes. “So, how long are we going to be stuck in the house for?”

“You haven’t left the house in, what, seventy days and you’re inquiring now?” Andrei requested, and as was usually the way when he dealt with Devon, he sounded amused. 

She shot him an exasperated look. “Really?”

He just grinned at her. 

“Seventy days? No, it can’t be that long.”

“Trust me, it is,” Sascha said wryly. “It was when we had to drag you out for the christening.”

“I remember that.” He waggled his finger. “I don’t remember any talk of a virus back then.”

“Probably because you weren’t listening,” Kurt retorted. 

“I was listening. I remember the christening, don’t I?”

“What did I wear?”

He tipped his chin at her, his eyes gleaming. “A pantsuit. Tailored.” He hummed. “Your butt looked very nice in it. And you had a hat on that looked like you were wearing birds on your head.”

She grinned. “He remembers!” Then she shot him a wink. “But my hat was beautiful.”

“It looked like a nest.”

“Apparently we just need to tie your wardrobe to every memory he has,” Sean snarked with a shake of his head as he hefted a still pouting Tin onto his knee. When one of the girls started wailing, Tin’s head drifted toward the noise. 

He knew what the twins were, knew they were his family, but still wasn’t entirely sure why they lived with them all the time. 

He coped with the extra babies in the house, mostly because he had more fathers than any one child could handle. 

“That would probably work,” Sascha replied with a grimace. 

Andrei laughed. “Okay, this will be fun. Devon, do you remember that day when Sascha wore that cerise pink dress? It had the tie around her waist, and it knotted at her side?”

Devon narrowed his eyes. “I think I do. If you tugged on the knot, the dress fell down at the front.”

She snorted. “It’s a nursing dress! It’s supposed to have flaps.”

Andrei waved a hand at her. “Well, do you remember the last time she wore it?”

Devon hummed, then clicked his fingers. “We sent the guards home.”

“That’s right. We sent the guards home because we knew we’d be in lockdown for a long time.”

“That was when this COVID thing started?” Devon whistled. “That’s a long time ago.”

“Trust me, we know,” Kurt replied with a laugh. 

“How long ago?”

“Sixty-seven days ago.” 

Andrei snickered. “We’re counting.” 

“Wow, we only just sneaked the christening in on time, didn’t we?”

Sascha laughed. “Yes, the babies have perfect timing.”

He drummed his fingers against the table. “Well, haven’t they fixed it yet?”

“You can’t fix a virus.”

“Surely there’s a way.”

“I wish you were a doctor, Dev, because I have no doubt you wouldn’t sleep until you figured out a solution,” she said dryly. 

“It’s never too late to become one,” he pointed out, rubbing his chin. 

“You’d make a shite doctor, Devon. You’d only want to treat the interesting cases, and ye have the bedside manner of a robot.” 

“That’s not fair,” he grumbled, actually looking offended. 

Chuckling, Kurt asked, “Do you even want to be a doctor?”

“No.” He shrugged. “But maybe I can fix things.”

She hid a smile. “Not this, but people are trying. We’ve all just got to do our bit and stay in where we can.”

“I stay in all the time,” he pointed out. 

“You were doing your bit before the virus struck,” Sean replied with a grin, and he laughed when Devon’s chest puffed out. 

“I was, wasn’t I?”

“Yeah, Dev, you were.” Her eyes twinkled as she reached for his hand and squeezed his fingers. “We’re getting through this—together.”

“Well, not together considering he didn’t even know what we were getting through,” Andrei grunted. 

She crinkled her nose at him. “You know what I mean.”

Devon, using his grip on her hand, tugged her around, then looked at her, his gaze scanning over her in a way that had her arching a brow at him. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m remembering what you’re wearing so I don’t forget we had this conversation.”

She huffed. “This is going to give me a complex. I either wear memorable clothing or Devon forgets everything important.”

“Not everything. Just the bits that don’t fit in with his research,” Andrei pointed out with a smirk, as he picked up his toast and took a large bite from it. 

Sascha would have liked to argue, but yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. 

Instead, she decided to own it. 

Getting to her feet, she did a full on twirl, and said, “There. You’ve seen what I’m wearing.”

“I’d probably remember it more if you showed me your bra and knickers.”

She grinned at him as she plunked herself back in her chair. “I’ll just bet you would.”

“Can’t blame a man for trying,” Sawyer remarked sagely, nodding his head at Devon, evidently in full agreement. 

“Maybe you should just eat breakfast with no clothes on, Sascha,” Andrei chimed in. “None of us would ever dare go senile if it meant we got to see a flash of your tits for breakfast.”

Though she flipped him the bird, she ducked her chin to hide her amusement. 

Men. 

Couldn’t live with them, couldn’t live without them. 

Copyright Serena Akeroyd 2020