If Arthur and the Marquis got together and the world did not explode, what would happen?
Um. Babies, apparently. For Katy.
* * *
* * *
"I would be the first to admit that I don't know very much about the way the universe works," said Arthur.
"Oh, I seriously doubt that," said the Marquis. "You don't know how fast I can talk."
"But I'm not completely ignorant," Arthur said, ignoring him. "I know that the only thing a man can understand about the universe is that he can understand nothing. He can't even understand that very well. I know that beating one's fists against the uncaring fact of existence and demanding an explanation is only going to get God to open a celestial window and tell you to shut up because he's having a nap. I know -- "
"Do you ever shut up?"
"-- that trying to discover the truth of anything of any significance whatsoever -- or, indeed, anything of no significance whatsoever -- is a fool's game," said Arthur emotionally. "Given that, all I want to know is, why didn't you tell me you could get pregnant before we slept together?"
"I didn't know!" said the Marquis. Their son purred and rubbed his head against the Marquis's ear.
There was a long silence, filled only by the children's squeakings. A kitten divebombed off her perch on Arthur's head and the Marquis caught her automatically, moving too fast for the human eye to see. She licked his palm.
"Well, at least they aren't Persians," said Arthur finally. "Never could bear Persians."