Who's Your Daddy?

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A few days after their official reunion, Xanthe and Baby are in Xanthe's temporary quarters.

"I am not wearing another dress."

"Come on, why not?" Xanthe whines.

Baby walks away from the seamstress, straight into Xanthe's wardrobe. She looks for a pair of trousers and a blouse, and puts them back on. "There, all better." She takes a seat on the couch and crosses her legs, while resting her arms over the back of the couch.

Xanthe, and the seamstress just stand there gaping at her. "B..." Xanthe shakes his head. "Make her trousers." He runs his hand through his silky golden locks. "Baby you must wear a dress to the service, and the dinner. There is no room for debate." Xanthe says, putting his foot down.

"Yes, sir. I love it when you get all demanding." Baby wiggles her eyebrows with a Robin-esque smirk, making Xanthe blush a deep crimson.

"You most definitely have been around Robin too long." He mumbles to himself. He walks toward the windows overlooking the courtyard.

"Does it upset you that, I prefer trousers over dresses?" Baby stands behind him, unsure of whether she should touch him or not.

He frowns, still facing the window. "I don't know. I guess, I was expecting you to be the same, but...you aren't. I'm just...I don't know." He says, still observing the scenery outside of the window.

"Oh..." She looks down at the ground. Soundlessly, she leaves the room. She walks the grand hallways headed to a place she knows, yet doesn't know. In her present mind, she's never been here before, but her subconscious is leading her someplace familiar. A place she finds great comfort.

She stops in front of a large set of red doors. She opens the doors and heads down the dark abandoned looking hallway, past a row of old doors. Suddenly she stops in front of a large tapestry that covers a section of the wall. She can tell, at one point in time this tapestry was beautiful. It still kind of is, even though it's covered in what looks like a decade's worth of dust, and worn slightly.

She opens the large white doors directly in front of it to let the light shine on it. The door creaks eerily, and she's met with an astonishing number of cobwebs. She finds and old broom in the hall and clears away as many as she can reach. Sadly the dirty windows don't provide much light. She looks around the room for some sort of fabric, but decides that the dusty curtains will do just fine. She grabs a chair and cleans as much of the large windows as she can reach.

She steps down and looks around the room. She's struck with nostalgia. I know this room...but how? All around her are grimy walls. She takes the curtain and rubs the wall near it; pale yellow. There's a child's bed, perfectly made, with cobwebs and years of dust covering it. On the bed are four handmade dolls in dusty blue, yellow, white, and green dresses. On the other side of the bed, a dusty, towering, bookshelf made to look like a tree. It's full of books she never knew that she knew of, until now.

Next to the bookshelf, in the corner is a little table with four chairs, the table set for tea; a teddy bear in a neat red blouse is seated next to a curly haired doll in a beautiful golden silk and lace dress. The last two seats are empty.

Next to the tea party, along the other wall is a large doll house, every room fully furnished, and covered in dust. The dining area is occupied by a rather large spider.

Next to it a wardrobe, the doors creak in protest as she opens them. In there, it is as if time has stopped. Not an inch of dust or cobwebs anywhere. All of the dresses, trousers, shirts, and shoes are lined perfectly, in mint condition. Why would they take such great care of the wardrobe, but not the room it's in? Better yet, how did they even get in here without disturbing the wall of cobwebs I had to go through? Unless...

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