Scott Driscol had more problems than he liked to let on. He was dead broke, had spent all of his money on gambling and booze. So what was to be done? He went to his boss, to ask for a raise.

Not that he was a hard worker, but he'd been working under Richard Hillard for three and a half years, which was several times longer than any of his other stints. He felt that it was time that he was recognized.

"Rich- I can call you that, can't I?" he began, walking straight into the office marked 'Mr. Hillard,' not bothering to knock, "we're old friends, yeah? Look, I could really use some extra cash. It's the wife." Scott rolled his eyes. She was always nagging him to buy her this bauble, or that overpriced bag. It was all her fault that he was here. "I think a raise is in order."

"As your boss, you will address me only as 'sir,' or 'Mr. Hillard,'" was Richard's only response. To tell the truth, he was more than a little amused, and had some wheels turning. The baby was due soon, and he needed to find somewhere for her to go. "And I think we can come to terms. I will give you five thousand dollars-"

"What?" gasped Scott. Sure, he'd been asking for money, but he hadn't expected so much, so quickly. Richard lifted his brow and stared sternly at the bumbling idiot in front of him, tapping his pen on his desk. What would Liz say, he wondered. He'd have to be careful in his description of this man to his wife later, or else she would never agree, and he was sick of having to worry about this little… problem.

"I will give you five thousand dollars per month, in exchange for you and your wife raising a child for us. She will be born within the month, and we will collect her the day before her eighteenth birthday. Think you can manage that? If she's any trouble, you can always hire a full-time nanny for her with some of your pay."

Scott had paled considerably, which would have amused Richard if he wasn't so intent on closing this deal. "You mean… we'd take care of a baby? For so long? But you'll pay that whole time?"

"Yes, isn't that what I just said?" Richard snapped. He ran a hand through his hair as a reminder to himself to cool his temper.

"Well, alright then. A baby. Wow. Wait until Avery gets wind of this!" Scott said. Richard quickly drew up a contract, and it was signed within the hour. He gave Scott his first check, so that he could start making his home baby-ready. It just wouldn't do to have her die or get injured. Time was already an issue, and every day of those eighteen years was going to be a long wait.