The possibility of Elena being pregnant had crossed Tony's mind, but had been hesitant to say anything, especially since he was a man and would be risking being scoffed at by his much wiser sisters. "But she's going to be okay?" Tony asked, needing that little bit of added reassurance. In his estimation, his baby sister had been through enough already, and he just wanted her to be happy. "And the baby?" he added, for good measure.

"There is a very small risk that the baby may be born underweight if the condition is not kept under control," the doctor told them gently, aware that they were apparently reeling between delight and shock at the unexpected news. "However, it has been diagnosed early on, and with rigorous dietary and supplement control, I see no reason why mother and child should not be perfectly fine. There is also a risk of a dehydration cycle, which is why we will be monitoring the condition closely. If it becomes necessary, she will be admitted for further IV fluid treatments."

All things considered, that didn't sound too bad, in Tony's opinion. It was Michael who was going to have to keep a close eye on her, though he'd have the help and support of all the De Lucas in doing so. Tony released a sigh of relief, relieved their worst fears hadn't been true. And Elena was pregnant. Mama Rosita was going to be in her glory. "What can we do to help?" he asked, voicing all of their concerns in one breath.

"Helping her to maintain a frequent small meal, bland diet, and to drink plenty of water," the doctor said, shrugging. "Keeping her spirits up mostly, I would imagine. The women I have treated with this condition have stated that a relatively easy-going lifestyle helped with their overall state, so perhaps keeping her entertained when she needs to rest' I am sure you'll be able to work it out between yourselves."

"Can we see her?" Tess asked, still holding to their mother's hand as Rosita absorbed the information in her own way.

The doctor nodded, smiling once again. "Of course," he told them. "She's waiting for you."

Tony had a few more questions, though he figured they could wait until later. For now, Elena was being well cared for and all they had to do was help keep her spirits up. He got the room number from the doctor and proceeded to lead the small entourage of De Lucas to Elena's room. "Now, Mama ..." he started. "No scolding her. She needs all the support we can give her."

Rosita, for her part, gasped, shocked her eldest would think such a thing. "Antonio, bite your tongue. I have no intention of scolding your sister when she is going to be giving me another grandchild. You could take a lesson in this. Isn't it about time you and Anya think about having another?" she teased.

"Mama, let Anya enjoy being a dancing mama for a while," Mataya laughed, releasing Rosita to let Tony escort their mother to Elena's room. She looped her arm through Tess', instead. "The baby's having a baby. Poor Michael."

Tess snorted with laughter; the last few years had definitely pulled her teeth when it came to her siblings.

Tony chuckled upon overhearing Mataya's remark. "You better not let her hear you say that," he warned, hooking Rosita's arm through his as the small group made their way down the hall to Elena's room, pausing to rap his knuckles against the door to announce their arrival.

"What?" 'Taya defended herself with the impishness that had always come easily to her. "She's on doctor's orders to take it easy, she's not allowed to hit me."

As Tess rolled her eyes, still laughing, Elena's voice called out to them in answer to Tony's knock. "You know, you could have just come in."

"We wouldn't want to catch you with your gown up, carina!" Tony called back, in a teasing tone of voice, though he was as concerned as the rest of them. He held the door open while the others filed in one at a time, with Rosita in the lead, before he took up the rear. He was at least glad they were all getting along for a change. Even Tess had mellowed and softened toward her youngest sister these days. For once, they seemed like a real family again.

Rosita wasted no time in going straight to her daughter and touching a kiss to both her cheeks, forcing herself not to stray too far into Italian. "Oh, my poor bambina," she said. "Are they treating you all right?"

To her credit, Elena didn't look even half as bad as she had that morning. To her family's eyes, she was a little too pale, and perhaps a little thinner than they were used to, but the sickly cast to her skin and the dark circles under her eyes were gone, thanks to the doctors and nurses at the hospital. She was sat up in bed, in her own clothes, one arm attached to a drip, and the other hand in Michael's, as Rosita bore down on her. Laughing at her mother's concern, she reached up to kiss her in return. "Mama, I am fine," she promised warmly. "I just couldn't keep anything down for a few days, that's all. I've thrown up before, I can handle it."

Tess was the one who went straight to Michael, however, proving that she did have some sense in that head of hers. She hugged her brother-in-law gently. "Congratulations," she told him with a smile. "Anything you need, call."

While Mama was hogging her daughter, it was Michael who seemed to be getting the attention from the other members of the family, much to his surprise. After all, not only was he not a De Luca, he wasn't the one who was pregnant or admitted to the hospital either. "Thanks, Tess," he replied, obviously surprised by the show of affection after it took so long for her to accept him. It seemed bygones were definitely bygones. "We weren't gonna tell anyone yet, but cat's out of the bag now, I guess."

"Bit of advice," Tess murmured, careful to keep her voice down so she didn't interfere with Rosita fussing over Elena. "Plain popcorn. So bland it's boring, and she'll be able to eat it without throwing it up." She winked at him, moving back. It seemed as though Elena wasn't the only one who had a predisposition toward this particular pregnancy complication.

Mataya, on the other hand, bounced straight in there and sat on Michael's lap. "So, writer man, what are you gonna wish for?" she asked artfully. "Boy or girl" Or twins" Wow, you guys with twins, that'd be funny. Although if she's still throwing up, not so funny. Thought of any names yet' I highly recommend Mataya, it's a name for winners."

Michael seemed a little overwhelmed by Elena's sisters lack of shyness, or maybe this was how they treated everyone they thought of as family - he wasn't really sure. He nodded his head to Tessa, committing that bit of advice to memory, eyes widening as Mataya plunked herself in his lap. Well, at least, Elena was right there to witness and know it hadn't been his idea or his fault. "Uh ..." Michael muttered uncertainly. "Twins! Good grief. Don't jinx us! Evil woman," he said, practically dumping her off his lap, which only made Tony laugh.

"That's all this family needs, another Mataya," he teased.

"You need some time to let it sink in. You're not alone, you know, Elena. I know you're scared, but we're always gonna be here for you, and we'll help you get through this," he told her with a reassuring smile, cupping her cheek affectionately. Though he loved all his sisters equally, he'd always had a soft spot in his heart for his baby sister.

She echoed his smile without thinking, tilting her face into her big brother's touch affectionately. There had been a time when they couldn't even be in the same city without violent words ensuing, a time she was infinitely glad was well and truly over now. She needed her big brother, more than she had words to say. "That was kind of why we were gonna keep quiet," she admitted ruefully. "So it had time to sink in. Mama's gonna drive me nuts."

Tony chuckled, thinking Mama was the least of Elena's worries right now. "I'll handle Mama. You just worry about getting better and doing what the doctor says, okay?" he told her, tapping her nose affectionately. "She might not say it, but she's proud of you, too. We all are."

"Tony, the guy says I have to eat bland," she pointed out with a grimace. "Bland. Me! How the hell am I going to do that?" She sighed, rolling her eyes at his affectionate tap. "I hope I don't ever make you regret saying that again."

"Just for a few months, gattina," he told her, calling her by the petname he'd picked for her when she was little. "I have faith in you, Elena, but what I think isn't important. It's what you think of yourself that really matters. You've come so far. You're married now, you have a successful business, and you're gonna be a mother. Don't you think that's something to be proud of?"

She looked him dead in the eye and told him the single most truthful thing that she had ever admitted aloud. "Every day I wake up sober is something I'm proud of," she said with absolute solemnity. "Everything else is a bonus. Doesn't sound like much, does it?"

"Just remember what being sober has earned you - a home, a husband, a career, a family. You're not alone, Elena. You never have been. You were just lost for a little while, that's all," he assured her, wishing he could give her better advice or more encouragement, but he hadn't walked in her shoes. "I can tell you this ....As a dancer, you face a lot of challenges. A good dancer makes it look easy, but sometimes it's painful, and it's even harder when other people are counting on you. If I drop my partner, I'm not the only one who will get hurt, so you keep going. You work through the pain, and when you do fall, you get back up and try again, and you never give up. Never. Because to give up is to admit defeat. I'm not a quitter, and neither are you."

Green eyes looked at him through a sheen of unshed tears before Elena eased closer, wrapping her arms around him in a warm hug. "Thank you, ballerino," she murmured. "I needed to hear that. I guess I'm not such a hard nut as I pretend to be, huh?" She sniffled quietly, drawing back to wipe her face before the tears became too obvious.

"Tell you a little secret?" he asked, a soft smile on his face as he drew back from her embrace, and reached up to push her hair back from her face.

She held his gaze for a long moment, and only family would have recognized the very faint warning of humor buried in her expression. "Dude, do I really need to know how much of your package is brown paper?"

Tony laughed, rolling his eyes at her remark. "Do I really need to know that you've noticed?" He'd told once if he'd told her a hundred times that his package, for lack of a better word, was hidden behind a special belt that supported him and protected him from injury. The bulge beneath a male dancer's tights was hardly indicative of his natural package.

She giggled, releasing her tension with laughter rather than tears. "I never said I'd noticed," she pointed out. "Maybe I'm just concerned about Anya's undercarriage needs." It said a lot about how easy their relationship had become that she was confident to tease him about something so personal, but then, they and their sisters had always been just a little overly intimate with their teasing.

"I've had no complaints so far," he remarked, not daring to go so far as to divulge any intimate details regarding his sex life. Sister or not, some things were still a little too personal. "I'm thinking about doing Romeo and Juliet again this year, but we'll have to see how the auditions go first." He wasn't sure why he was bringing it up, except that it was was that time of year again, and he had a lot of decisions to make.

She snickered softly at the way he had diverted the conversation, easing back onto the bed. One hand absentmindedly scratched at the catheter in her hand as she flicked her hair out of her eyes with a toss of her head. "Oh, Mama would love to see you and Anya dance Romeo and Juliet again," she enthused. "But you didn't tell me the secret."

"Yeah, but I'm not sure how many ballerinas I'm going to end up with next year, and I have to keep them all happy," he explained further, though he didn't really want to burden her with his professional problems. There had been a distinct lack of ballerinas this past year, which had put much of the burden on Merethyl and Anya. On the other hand, if there were too many of them, he wouldn't be able to feature them all.

"Oh, come on," Elena smiled. "You know Anya is happy to step back now and then. Hell, with Sofia around, she might actually want to take fewer leading roles. Have you talked to her about it yet?" She tilted her head curiously as she asked, though she knew Tony and Anya had one of the healthiest relationships she'd ever seen.

"Yes, but maybe it's time to let someone else dance those roles," he said. That was what was at the heart of the problem. Romeo and Juliet was their signature ballet. It was the one they were best known for, but even so, there came a time when they'd have to step aside and let younger dancers have a crack at it. The question was, was that time now"

His baby sister raised her brow as she looked at him. "You don't seriously think anyone would really want to see a De Luca Romeo and Juliet where the married De Lucas aren't dancing the title roles, do you?" she pointed out. "Didn't Nurofen and Fountains dance it until they were crumbly?"

"You don't think people are sick of us by now?" he asked, a little worriedly. The problem wasn't so much that he and Anya couldn't dance it anymore. They were still in their prime and, if anything, were better at their craft that they'd ever been. That wasn't the problem; the problem was both pleasing and featuring up and coming talent.

"Ballerino, you're looking at this all wrong," she told him. "You're worried people are getting bored with you? Then both of you take a step back. Take the lead roles in only two ballets a year, give the leads to other dancers the rest of the time. I guarantee, the shows where you and Anya dance together will sell out fast."

"We're already doing that, Elena," he replied, unsure how the conversation had morphed into a debate about the ballet. Thus far, he'd had no divas or problems with ballerinas complaining they didn't get enough attention, but he'd also had very few who'd stayed on more than a year, besides Anya and those in the corps. Maybe they saw the Shanachie as a stepping stone; he wasn't quite sure. People came and went quickly in Rhy'Din, and it seemed the ballet was no different. "I'm worried I will end up with dancers who don't feel they get enough of the spotlight."

After her conversation with Tony, Elena was better equipped to answer Michael's tentative query, curling her hand into his. "Baby, I'm kind of overwhelmed at the moment," she told him gently. "It doesn't seem real, you know" I want to have a family with you, I always have. But I'm scared, too. I'm scared that I'm screwing our baby up already, and it's not even big enough to be called a baby yet. But you know what? No one's gonna let me screw up, are they' You won't, and Mama won't, and my brother and sisters won't. So maybe I don't need to worry about being a screw up. I just need a little more time to really accept that this is happening."

"I'm scared, too," he admitted, needing to be honest with her and himself. "It's a little unexpected." He laughed at little at his own understatement. "Okay, a lot unexpected, but it's good news, El. I know it sounds stupid, but it's-it's like it's God's way of saying he believes in us or something. We deserve this, Elena. We deserve a family of our own. I truly believe that. We've been given a second chance at life. We can either cower in fear or grab hold of it for all its worth."

"Life's like a box of chocolates," she agreed with a sage nod. "You never know which one of them is going to suddenly pop out a baby."

He laughed at her mis-quoted Forrest Gump, but he got the point. "I'm pretty sure we're not the only ones who've been through this." He wasn't sure about percentages, but he had a feeling a good majority of pregnancies still came as surprises, despite the easy availability of birth control.

"I know, you're right," she nodded with a smile, relaxing against him comfortably. "It's just gonna take some time, and a couple of meltdowns, I think. And I promise, I will replace your laptop. I really thought I could make it to the bathroom that time."

He winced, chuckling just a little at the reminder of his now ruined laptop. "Thank God I backed it up," he said. And thank God he had a spare. His entire career depended on what he stored on that laptop. Though he was only in the research and planning stages of his next novel right now, there were still bits and pieces of information stored on his computer that he didn't want to lose. "Next time, try the garbage can," he suggested with a smirk, though he hoped there wouldn't be a next time.

"Hopefully I won't be throwing up fifty times a day now we know what we're dealing with," she said, rolling her eyes at his smirk. She wasn't holding out for no vomit. Just less vomit would be a happy place right now. "Food's gonna be a bit on the boring side for a while, though. Sorry." She was actually pouting at that thought. She loved everything to do with cooking and eating, and being told that her habits were probably making her nausea worse had not been a happy conversation.

"I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but it'll be over soon, Elena. It's only temporary. I'll try not to eat anything tempting in front of you," he promised, wanting to be supportive, even at the price of limiting his own diet.

"It's not the food so much as the nausea," she admitted reluctantly. "I might not be able to cook some things, or even face thinking about eating them. It's gonna take an adjustment or seven, but we'll get there." She smiled at him, trying not to show just how scared she was about having a condition that effected their pregnancy so badly. "Here's hoping it clears up in a few months."

"I can cook," he pointed out. Okay, so, maybe he couldn't, but he could at least try. All it took was a little practice, right' "What are you gonna do about the shop?" he asked curiously. If she couldn't cook, what did that mean for her restaurant and catering business"

"I guess I'm gonna have to promote Liza, and hire another under-cook," she grumbled, not particularly happy about that. But at the same time, it was a good thing. Even after the baby was born, her time would be limited. Having a staff she could trust keeping her business ticking over was a good thing.

It might have occurred to her how ironic that was, considering the advice she'd just given her brother, but Michael had no idea Elena had given her brother that same advice. So much for a vacation, too, he realized. He didn't dare take her too far from home if there was any chance she might need to be hospitalized again. Besides, he wanted her to be able to enjoy every aspect of a vacation, including the food. "You work too hard, anyway," he pointed out, trying to be as supportive as possible. "It'll be good to take a little break."

"Maybe I'll write that cookery book," she sighed, knowing she was going to have to take it easy for a while, no matter what she actually wanted to do. "Recipes for the Mommy with Morning Sickness."

"That's not such a bad idea, you know. There are probably lots of women with the same problem and they don't know what to eat either," he suggested, knowing she was being sarcastic, but it wasn't a bad idea really, and maybe what she learned from this experience could help someone else.

It had been a sarcastic suggestion, but on second thought, it wasn't a bad idea. It would keep her in the kitchen, for a start, even if all she was preparing were bland meals. But she knew enough about nutrition to be able to put together bland meals that were wholesome and close to healthy, meals that a family could doctor to their own tastes while still being able to eat with a nauseated mommy. "Huh," she mused, genuinely considering it. "I guess I could write something like that. Use our experience, sort of thing."

"So, maybe it's a gift in disguise," he told her, trying to see the positive side of things. If she was going to have to adjust her diet, she might as well make the best of it and maybe help other people in the long run. "I'll be your guinea pig. If it tastes terrible, we scrap it and try again. And you'll be able to tell whether it makes you sick or not."

"Maybe." She shifted, tilting her head back to look at him. "And you really wouldn't mind having a few weirdly tasteless things put on your plates for the next few months" It's not like I'd have to start from scratch - I bet 'Taya and Tess and Anya already know what worked for them. I could ask them what did and didn't make them feel sick, and work from there."

He chuckled again. "If I get really desperate, I'll go out for a big sloppy cheeseburger on my own," he teased, blue eyes sparkling with amusement. Whether he'd really do that or not remained to be seen, but at least, he had given her something to strive for.

She laughed, poking at his stomach. "I'm hardly gonna poison you!" she protested, but it felt good to laugh. She felt much better after a little medical intervention, and a little professional reassurance that she was supposed to feel like crap in her condition. Cuddling in close, she kissed the corner of his mouth softly. "Thank you, Mischa."

"Nothing to thank me for," Michael replied, brushing his fingers against her cheek in a tender caress. "I love you, and I'm gonna love our baby, too. We're gonna be fine, Elena. Promise." And with that said, he sealed that promise with a kiss, hopeful for the future of their new family, despite a rocky start. After all, what was life without a few bumps in the road?

((The course of true love doesn't run smooth for Elena and Michael, does it' But hey, they have Mama Rosita to keep a close eye on them, right' :grin: ))