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The last few weeks had been frustrating, to say the least. It had taken Gardener three days to get Paul to say their names. It had then taken her another week to get him to recognise that "Paul" was his name, and that "Gardener" was her name. Actually, she still wasn't sure they'd managed to conquer that one.



That, of course, was when they weren't trying out different websites, in an attempt to get him a recognisable background. That wasn't working well, either. He simply ignored most of them, subconsciously dismissing them as completely irrelevant to him. So far, he had only latched on to one website. Unfortunately, it had been a dismal failure.



Gardener had no idea what sort of sick person had put the website together, but Paul had quickly turned psychotic. Estrelda had removed that particular link the moment she realised what the effects were, but the damage had already been done. Billy, sensing that something was not right, had stayed well away from him. Wings, however, now refused to have anything to do with him.



Gardener rubbed her eyes tiredly, and sipped her tea. It had been a long day. In an hour or so, she'd get dinner ready. Strictly speaking, it wasn't necessary for them to eat, but she wanted him to get used to a regular routine. At least until he'd got some kind of memory going again.



As she started to relax and work the kinks out of her neck and shoulders, she heard a cry. It sounded like a baby. Why, she wondered, would there be a baby in the house? After a few moments of listening to the crying, suspicion started to enter her mind. Estrelda wasn't thinking of a more direct solution to the Paul problem, was she?



She put her cup of tea down, and got up. Following the sound of the crying, she found herself in Paul's room. Or, at least, what had been Paul's room. Where once the room was largely blank, it was now blue and frilly. Estrelda had clearly had a hand in the room's décor. She had no children of her own, and was pretty determined to stay that way. As a result, she had obviously gone with the pink is for girls, blue is for boys, and frilly is for babies theme. The room's walls had barnyard animals painted on them - although Gardener was amused when she noticed that each animal depicted was clearly identifiable as being either male or female.



The room, which had once been dominated by an enormous double bed, was now dominated by an equally large cradle. Now feeling sickly certain of just what Estrelda had decided to do to fix the problem of Paul, she hurried over to the side of the cradle.



The baby inside, rising up from a sea of lacy frills, looked like all babies did, to Gardener's unpractised gaze. However, the tallboy nearby had several framed pictures on it. The largest of them was a publicity photo of the Beatles. And the baby's jumpsuit had "Paul" embroidered on it.



Suddenly angry, she drew in her breath. "Estrelda!" she shouted.



Startled by the sudden noise, Paul began to howl. Stunned at the level of noise that such a small person could produce, Gardener yelled herself. Catching herself, she shut up and picked him up. Glad to have made contact, Paul soon stopped crying, and looked up into her face. Before long, he was giving her a happy baby smile, and started to gurgle and coo. Gardener gazed down into the tiny face, and realised that she was smiling herself. He clenched his hands into tiny fists, and waved them around in the air.



"If she wasn't my author," Gardener told Paul, "And if I could get my hands on her, I'd kill her for this. What do I know about raising babies?"



To her amazement, though, information soon flooded into her mind. Basic information on the human reproductive system, and on the development of humans from babies to adulthood, came at her command.



"Well," she told Paul, a slightly sour tone in her voice, "At least she's willing to do her research."



As if in reply, a randomly waving fist caught her on the chin.



She laughed. "Oh, alright. I'll take it on the chin, and bring up baby. Let's go and check on the animals, shall we?" She carried him out of the bedroom and took him into the main room. She was not particularly surprised to see a sling sitting on the table. "How convenient," she told Paul, and he started gurgling again.



She took him to the table, and wriggled him into the sling. Then, with Paul on her back, she went outside. Almost reflexively, she headed for the stables where the winged horse was housed. Given that the animal had asked for him by name, she had taken Paul to see her every time that Estrelda had tried a new link, just in case that it might help either party. It hadn't. The winged horse still didn't know who she was or why she was there, and neither did Paul.



When she looked in the stable, she reared back in surprise. Like Paul, the winged horse was now a baby. Or, rather, a foal. A very young foal. She was wobbly on her legs, and her wings were covered in down, rather than feathers. She looked up at Gardener, and whinnied.



Gardener looked skyward, as she always did when talking to Estrelda. "Two babies?" She asked.



Not unexpectedly, Estrelda didn't reply.



Gardener shrugged, and opened the stable. The pair were probably meant to be brought up together, which meant that she should really keep them stabled close together. She stroked the foal's nose. "Come on," she said. "I'd better get you another place to live." Obligingly, the foal followed her back to the house.



When the trio got there, however, they found Silver waiting for them. With her was a man who had the face of George Harrison. Gardener swallowed heavily at the sight of him, however, because his body did not match that of the lead guitarist. He wore snug-fitting hipster jeans, boots, and an embroidered vest. The vest was not fastened, and he wore nothing underneath it. What she could see of his body made her go weak at the knees. Where the other George Harrison was the band member most in need of several good meals and plenty of exercise, this one had pecs and a sixpack. The tight jeans revealed good, strong legs that did not need a pair of well-tailored slacks to make them look good.



Then she saw the expressions of intense worry on their faces, and the lustful thoughts that had immediately started drifting across her mind were banished.



"What happened?" The three adults asked in perfect unison.



"You first, Gardener," Silver said quickly, forestalling any confusion over who was going to explain first, and Gardener quickly told them what had happened. Then Silver told her why they were there.



Gardener's eyes widened. "Oh, dear. Have you told the others yet?"



Silver shook her head. "We don't know where he is, and you were easiest to get to. You haven't seen him then?"



"No, I haven't. But thanks for the warning - I'll beef up the security here. I'd come and help you search, but I don't want to take Paul into danger."



Silver looked even more worried. "Gardener, security here isn't ideal. Why don't you take Paul and your young Pegasus to the Mistress' palace? The security there is the best ever. The kids will be much safer."



Gardener sighed. "That palace is not the ideal place to bring up children, but you're right. Until George is caught and returned to normal or destroyed, they'll be much safer there. I'll get Estrelda to shut down this website for renovations while I'm away."



"We need to keep going," Silver told her. "We have to go and warn Warrior."



"Sure. I'll see you later."



The pair turned and walked away, and Gardener's worry was instantly short circuited by the sight of George's well-shaped backside. She sighed, lustfully, and went back into the house with the foal trailing after her.