Summary: He looks and looks and looks. The first time Eliot meets his son. Yet another daddy!Eliot fic. E/P
For kt8a, for her all her help in RL stressful wibbly-wobbly wiffly-waffly stuff. Thank you! This is the work of thirty-five minutes. Not even kidding. Once I started, it just poured out. So if there are any spelling/grammar/etc. mistakes, that's why.
Look
The baby in his arms looks up at him, unblinking, looking into his very soul with a piercing blue-eyed gaze.
Eliot stares back at him, his baby boy, his son, and wonders how in the hell something so damn perfect came from him. He thinks, holy shit, he's a father, and God help him (even though they've been out of touch for so long), God help him be a good father to this kid.
Nine months of worrying, nine months of being sick to his stomach with fear, nine months of giddy-nervous-bliss at the prospect of being a father, nine months, all leading up to this moment.
"Congratulations, Daddy. You have a son."
A son. His. His and Parker's.
A smile of pure happiness and love spreads on his face, and he looks down almost reverently at his son, admiring him, the way the baby watches him, as if he knows exactly who he is, the way the tiny little hand curls around his finger, the little tuft of soft blond hair on his head.
He looks and looks and looks.
"Are you having a staring contest with the baby?"
Parker. He throws her an annoyed look infused with all the love and affection he can put into it.
"Yeah, Parker. I'm having a staring contest with our son."
He sits on the bed right up close to her so she can look and look and look at their perfect baby son, too.
Parker reaches out a hesitant finger and the little fingers grip it tight.
Daddy's strength, Eliot thinks proudly.
"I think you lost," Parker whispers and smiles tiredly-happily-lovingly at her son, at her husband, at her family.
"Are you kidding? I was lost the minute they handed him to me," Eliot chuckles and puts their son in his mother's arms. "And don't tell me you weren't either."
"Mm-hm," Parker agrees, staring at her baby, "Rob stole my heart as soon as I held him."
"Rob? As in 'rob banks' Rob?"
Parker shoots her husband an affectionate-annoyed-teasing look. "No, silly. Like 'Robin Hood' Rob."
Eliot looks down at his son, who looks back up at him. He nods. "Yeah, okay. He looks like a Rob." He grins and leans down to kiss his son's soft little forehead. "Robby."
"Or Glenn. For Glenn-Reider."
Eliot sighs. "No, Parker. We are not naming our son after a safe. His name is Rob."
Parker pouts. "But I like Glenn."
"Come on," Eliot tries to reason, "We can't name him Rob Glenn Spencer. Sounds like we couldn't make up our minds."
"Rob Glenn Parker-Spencer."
"Parker..."
"Glenn Rob Spencer-Parker."
"You- "
Eliot's next words are broken off by a high-pitched cry.
"You broke the baby!"
"I broke the baby?"
"He's crying! You broke him. Fix."
Eliot looks down at the angry baby in his arms and sighs. "Rob? Glenn? Shit, I don't think he likes either of those names."
Parker leans over his arm to look at her son. "Maybe you should pick his name."
Eliot thinks. They've had nine months to prepare, but this, this is one of the most important decisions of their lives. All throughout the pregnancy, they've had help - a lot of it - from their surrogate family.
"How about Alec? Or Nathan?"
Parker beams and snuggles against his arm. "So Alec? Or Nate?" she asks the newborn.
Baby Alec-or-Nate blinks drowsily up at his parents and promptly falls asleep in his father's arms.
Eliot shares a look with his wife. "Both?"
"Alec Nathan Parker-Spencer?" Parker asks and turns it over in her mind thoughtfully. "Sophie might feel left out."
Eliot chuckles. "We'll name our daughter after her. She'll get that baby name all to herself."
"Daughter?" Parker narrows her eyes at him.
"Daughter," Eliot repeats, and kisses his wife soundly on the lips.
Parker grins against his mouth. "When can we start baby-making again?"
Eliot laughs as softly as he can, so as not to wake the sleeping baby. "As soon as you're ready, darlin', as soon as we're ready." He looks down at their son. "Maybe in another year. This baby-making thing is exhausting."
"You're tired?" Parker gripes, "You're not the one who just squeezed a watermelon out of her vagina."
Eliot grins at the wholly inappropriate statement. Crazy Parker. That's why he loves her. He kisses her again. "I love you. And I love our watermelon."
Parker giggles. "I love our watermelon, too."
Eliot puts his arm around his wife, and together, they watch their son, Alec Nathan Parker-Spencer (soon to be big brother to Sophie Parker-Spencer, maybe in a year or maybe even longer, depending on how much of a trouble-maker little Alec is), sleep.
Just watch and watch and watch and look and look and look.