A/N: OK, so this idea would not leave me alone. I guess it can kind of be seen as an epilogue to Minor Talent, if you will. Yes, it's pure fluff, but I had fun writing it. Enjoy!
A quick peck on the cheek, a hurried 'love you, bye' and she was out the door, a huge grin plastered on her face as she went to meet the girls to go shopping. He stood, awkwardly, in the middle of the living room, hands in his pockets as the door swung shut. He felt, almost, at a loss. For two months now they'd been living in their own little bubble; each had jobs they could do at home, and each had shared the responsibilities around the house including, but not limited to, looking after the little bundle of joy that showed their love and relationship more than any marriage certificate could have.
His mother had offered to come for the day, to help him.
"Nah, mam, it's fine," he had insisted. "It's only a day, I'll be all right."
It was too much of a trek, anyway.
He had to admit, she deserved the day out. Since the birth of the happy baby boy, he, at least, had been able to meet up with Wolf and Andy for a couple of drinks. And she'd never batted an eyelid, just pushed him out of the door with the insistence that he be careful and stay quiet when he got back in.
So, when he'd ended up speaking to Rosie, in town for a couple of weeks, he had suggested that she take Hazel out shopping, have a girly day away from him and the baby.
Now, he couldn't help but slightly regret the decision, as he looked at the list Hazel had left him. He sighed, turned and found himself staring at the door to the baby's room, feeling as though he was looking at the entrance to some beast's lair.
Berating himself, he repeated the mantra in his head; it's only a day, I'll be all right. He checked the list. As far as he could tell, the baby was now asleep and wasn't due to wake up for a feed for another hour.
An hour to kill.
On his own.
In the flat.
He whistled to himself, before settling himself on the sofa and flicking the television on.
Hazel would have been half-way down the street, by now.
A crueller person would have called her back when they realised the huge task before them, but Dai knew she needed the day out.
Twenty minutes later, and a wailing sound broke through the barrier of the wooden door and interrupted the trashy daytime talk show that had been the only thing on TV. Dai leapt off the sofa, checking the list. It wasn't time for feeding.
A horrible feeling of dread washed over him.
"Oh, God," he whispered, before stuffing the paper in his pocket and approaching the door.
Slowly, he reached forward and opened it, sliding into the room. Flicking the light on, he quickly scanned the light blue walls, painted with images of dragons and knights in armour, centaurs and warrior elves.
Hazel hadn't been too fussed on what he'd wanted to put on the wall of the nursery, but after seeing the images drawn up by Andy, she'd relented. They weren't, after all, too much. They were pretty baby friendly. Dai had wanted them because, he said, he wanted a kid who wasn't scared of dragons or other mythical beasts.
Taking pride of place, above the baby's cot, was a different kind of dragon.
A large, red dragon beneath a white sky, standing on green ground, one paw raised up and with a curly tail.
Dai had been so, so proud when they'd first brought the baby home and he had gazed up at the ceiling, fascinated by the image that represented half his heritage.
"Half-English, I'm fine with," Dai had told Hazel, arms wrapped around her stomach. "But I want him to know he's half-Welsh, too."
The baby's wails bounced off the walls and into Dai's ears, but he pushed onwards until he was leaning over the cot, smiling down into his boy's face. The baby blinked it's big, blue eyes at him, his crying stopping for a moment as he stared upwards.
Dai's smile grew bigger.
"You just wanted to see your da, didn't you?" he laughed, glad he'd stopped crying.
Then, after taking a breath, the baby started again.
Dai flinched, before sighing and reaching down, scooping the baby up into his arms. "It's okay, Robbie," he whispered into the baby's ears, patting his back. "Daddy's 'ere."
Quickly, he sniffed his boy's bottom.
"Nope, you don't need a change, and Hazel said your feed wasn't for a while so..."
Realising it was going to be a lot more difficult than he thought, Dai started to move around the room, holding the baby and bouncing him up and down, cooing softly to him and hoping he'd drift off to sleep, eventually.
After a while of wondering around the room, Dai felt like his feet were going to drop off.
"How does your mam do it, kid?" he sighed, patting the baby's back. For a few seconds, Robbie was silent, staring at his father with the same eyes his mother had, the eyes Dai had fallen in love with. The eyes that had distracted him so much when he'd been on the road with the guys.
From the living room, he heard his mobile ringing.
Stopping himself from swearing, just in time, he carried Robbie through and placed him on the sofa, where he continued to cry. He grabbed the phone and pressed answer, putting it to his ear without checking the name.
"Dai – how's the babysitting going?"
The light Irish lilt made Dai sigh with relief. He'd worried, for a second, that it would be Hazel, and he knew that if she heard her precious crying, she'd be home in a shot. He really didn't want that.
"Andy, he won't stop crying."
Andy laughed. "That's what babes do, isn't it? Does he need changing? Feeding?"
"Walked him around a bit? Apparently that helps."
"Tried that," Dai sighed, shaking his head as he glanced at the baby. "Andy, what the bloody hell do I do?"
"I don't know, mate. Try different things, I'm sure something will work. Anyway, I was just calling to check in. I'll see you soon, yeah?"
A click, and then the musician was gone. Dai groaned, turning to his son and frowning. Robbie still cried loudly, and Dai looked around the room to see what he had to work with.
His eyes fell on the acoustic guitar in the corner.
His gaze darted from baby to instrument and back again.
"Robbie, wait right there," he commanded, before darting across to the guitar and strapping it on. He strummed a few chords, before approaching the sofa and standing in front of his son. Robbie stopped crying, staring at his father with curiosity in his big eyes. Dai grinned at him, gave him a wink and sighed as he started to wail again. He started to play, and when the music started, Robbie stopped.
It was working.
He tapped his hand against the guitar, before continuing to play, nodding his head along as he fixed his gaze on Robbie. His grin grew. "Isn't he lovely, isn't he wonderful, isn't he precious..." Robbie's face broke into a grin. "Less than one minute old, I never thought through love we'd be, making one as lovely as he, but isn't he lovely, made from love..." The baby started to laugh, and Dai couldn't help the huge smile across his face when Robbie actually clapped. "Isn't he pretty, truly the angel's best. Boy, I'm so happy, we have been heaven blessed."
Dai rocked his body from side to side along with his own music, shaking his head as he started to dance around the baby, Robbie's head bobbing up and down with the music.
He couldn't wait to buy the kid his first guitar.
Hazel smiled to herself as she stared at the sofa, shaking her head. Dai was stretched out across it, the guitar next to the sofa in one hand, and Robbie peacefully asleep next to his dad. She had been worried, all day, about the pair, but now she wondered where that worry had come from.
With a content sigh, she picked the baby up and moved him into his bedroom, lowering him slowly into his cot. She brushed her finger under his chin, before whispering, "Lovely boy." Quickly, she grabbed a spare blanket and took it to the living room, throwing it over Dai and kissing his forehead. "Both of you," she sighed, shaking her head as she vowed to go shopping with Rosie more.