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A Moth Into A Butterfly	By : TaimaMarie Category: Individual Celebrities > Criss Angel Views: 3069 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not know or own Criss Angel. This is a work of fiction. I make no money off it.

Chapter List
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AN: Seriously, Write You A Song by Plain White T's is my new favorite love song.

“What are you going shopping for?” Criss asked, taking a bite of pancakes. Marilyn leaned over to wipe a bit of syrup off the corner of his lips.

“Baby stuff,”

“Baby stuff! What stuff does a baby need? You make the milk, we buy a pack of diapers. End of story.”

“And what, pray tell my darling illusionist, shall our child wear around his or her body whilst I feed them? And what shall I cover our child with? And where will we lay our child down? And what if I need to pump my breasts?” Marilyn crossed her arms, amused, over her chest.

“Well, Marilyn, if that's the case, I suppose I'd sacrifice and pump your breasts.” Criss gave an impish smirk. Marilyn swatted him on the back of the head with her purse.

“I'll be back in a couple of hours, okay?” she kissed his mouth tenderly before grabbing a sweater and walking out. Dimitra sipped her coffee knowingly.

“So what are you planning, Christopher?”

“Planning something? Why would you think I'm planning something, Mom?” he asked innocently. The older woman gave a knowing snort before taking her dirty dishes to the sink.

“Because you are ALWAYS planning something, and you've spent a lot of time up in Marilyn's room the past couple of days.”

“Because we're trying to get to know each other better before the baby comes.” he protested. It was true. They had spent nights sitting up, chatting about everything. He found out what music Marilyn liked (HIM was her favorite, he found, but she liked to listen to a little of everything) what food she liked, what soda was her favorite.

Almost always he started out the night promising himself he'd go and sleep in the hotel. But almost always he fell into bed with her, arms wound together. He liked to listen to her as she fell asleep. There was something soothing in it.

“Sure,” Dimitra rolled her eyes and went to the living room to pick up her knitting needles. She was in the process of making everything she thought her new born grandchild would possibly need. It was difficult, seeing that Marilyn hadn't picked the color scheme for the room, ands he didn't know if it was a boy or a girl yet.

Well, there was no fooling a mother, Criss reasoned. He hurried to his cell phone and punched in a few numbers. Within a few minutes, some people were at the front door. A whole herd of men trooped up to the attic and began measured, moving things, and mixing plaster.

“Christopher!” Dimitra called.

“Yes, Mom?”

“Make sure your friends wipe their feet before they come into the house.” she sat back down, turned up the sound on the television. She was curious about what was happening, but she just couldn't miss her stories.

Criss tied his hair back with a black bandana and began to direct people. He was having walls put up to separate the room into three parts. He was making sure each section had at least ONE tiny window in it.

Well, when Marilyn decided where the baby would sleep, he figured, he would put a skylight in there. That way he baby would be covered in sun light all the time. Yes, children need fresh air and sunshine. He was mulling this over when someone asked him about paint.

“Huh? Oh. Paint them both white. I'll call you in a few days when she knows what colors she wants.” he waved his hand and looked at some plans someone had drawn up.

“You're putting an awful lot of work into this when you don't know very much about it.” one of the workers said skeptically.

“She's worth the work.” he said absently, not catching everyone swapping knowing looks. Once everything was in place, he ushered the workers out and set a few fans in the room to maybe dissipate the scent of dry wall.

“So now what?” JD asked as Criss hauled a couple of boxes up the stairs.

“We put together the baby furniture.” he grinned as he started opening stuff.

“Furniture?” Costa raised an eyebrow. “But she hasn't picked anything else out.”

“Oh, I went to Toys 'R' Us the other day with her, and she pointed out the set she wanted. She said she didn't care if it was a boy or a girl, that was the one she wanted.”

“Of course you did.” JD smiled at his brother as they began to wrestle with directions. One would have thought it would have been considerably simple for three grown men, one of them a highly trained illusionist, to put away a changing table, a crib, and a dresser.

One would have been very, very wrong.

It took a full three hours of cursing, arguing, and turning the directions upside down before they got everything put together. Criss put the crib in one corner, the changing table in the other, and the dresser in the middle.

“It looks empty. I guess it'll be better when she puts more things in it, right?” he bounced on his toes before looking at JD. “Did you bring it?”

“It's in the back of my truck right now.” JD and Costa smiled at each other while they left. Criss continued to float around the room, fussing with this and that. It really did look bare, sterile.

He stared down into the crib, wondering about the child that would be in it sooner rather than later. Would it be a he or a she? Would she have Marilyn's eyes and his hair? Would he have Criss's cheekbones and Marilyn's nose?

“Here it is!” his brothers were lugging up a large, polished, comfortable looking rocking chair. It was the one their mother had used to nurse all of the boys, and what JD's wife had used for their child.

“Perfect,” Criss announced, setting it next to the crib.

**

Marilyn sat down later that night in the rocking chair. The second she had walked in the door, Criss had grabbed her hand and hauled her upstairs. She had been shocked. The attic looked exactly how she had pictured it. Now she just had to pick colors so they could paint.

The baby's room was her favorite place, the rocking chair her favorite thing. Currently, Criss was downstairs getting them something to eat. She leaned her head back and rocked.

“I can't wait for you to see all this.” Marilyn said to her stomach. “I cannot wait for you to be old enough for me to tell you about your daddy surprising me this way.”
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A Moth Into A Butterfly