This story is part of the Arleccino Timeline, Falstaff's own timeline, and was written just because....

As always, what's Marvel's is Marvel's

"A grandmum? Me?" Moira voiced her thoughts to her half empty glass of whiskey. It had been three hours since Rahne had called with the news that she and Doug were expecting. For past the two hours, fifty-nine minutes and fifty-eight seconds, Moira's only thoughts had been a nostalgic 'Where had the time gone?' mingled with a shocked 'A'm not ready to be a granny.'

Annie looked over at her favorite customer and started to grin. Moira was a distant relative of hers, which meant that there was going to be a new addition to the family. "Really!?! ... Kevin? Who's the lucky girl.... Or is it Rahne and Doug?" Annie smiled, remembering the lovely reception that Moira had hosted for the two.

Moira was thinking about that day too, the day she had given away her beloved daughter. It hadn't seem all that long ago, barely two or three weeks, not three years come June. "Rahne and Doug," she confirmed as she finished her drink. "A'm happy for them...." Her voice trailed off as she tried to name the other part of her feeling. "But when did A get so old? Ma wee bairn is having a wee bairn of her own."

Annie smiled at that. "Ye still be the prettiest Granny around. Do they have names picked out yet?" She poured Moira another drink as she continued, "When is the baby due?"

"On ma birthday," Moira answered with a sentimental grin, "If it's a girl, Rahne said they want to name it after me. If not, it's a junior." Her mood was perking up fast. In fact.... "A'm buyin' the next round for the house. In honor of ma new granddaughter."

Annie quickly poured the drinks and had the waitresses deliver them. The resulting clamor and toasts brought a proud smile to Moira's face. By nightfall, if not sooner, every home on Muir Island would know that Rahne and Doug were expecting a wee bundle of joy.

The pregnancy would be carefully followed, a testament to the love the people of the island had for Moira. Some of the women would make little blankets and baby clothes, praying for the child with each stitch. Both Moira and Rahne would need the prayers, because the chances of the pregnancy lasting full term for a child of two mutants wasn't good.

But repeating the words that Rahne had told her, Moira toasted her unborn grandchild. "What God gives, He will protect." And she believed it with all her heart.