Author's Note: One more one-shot and I will have reached my 10th one-shot. I'm excited.

Day 2, Your Least Favourite Song: I was originally going to use the worst song in existence, Outkast's Hey Ya, but opted for Changes by Ozzy and Kelly Osbourne, instead. I don't dislike this song for any particular reason, but I always change the channel or radio station when it comes on.

Eighteen years old and sinfully cute, Ronan McIntyre-Fraser is without doubt the epitome of beauty as she steps out of Glasgow Central Station and into the humid summer afternoon her eyes firmly focused on her mobile phone as her long fingers dance across the keypad at lightening speed. She easily sidesteps a cluster of puzzled tourists without so much as a glance before finally; she pauses in the midst of the typical small crowd gathered outside of the station and looks up through wide forest green eyes.

It has been less than one year since Stuart has last laid eyes on his daughter in person and in that time the changes have been nothing short of drastic.

There is a short distance between them yet he sees that she is the spitting image of Ewan with pale skin speckled with light freckles and long hair the colour of burnt orange which falls in sleek curls around her narrow shoulders; the new bronzed highlights shimmer beneath the sunlight. A lanky girl growing up, over the course of this past year she has grown tremendously and now in her wedge heeled sandals she brushes six feet.

She is beautiful and she turns the heads of several young men although she remains coolly unfazed, unknowing of how attractive she is.

As a little girl, Ronan had incessantly and unceremoniously refused to partake in anything seen to be even remotely feminine. She was always much more interested in cars and sports than in dolls and ballet, and during her teenage years she lived in her old rugby shirt and beaten trainers. These are now gone, replaced by a vivid green summer dress that skims her knees covered in silvery scar tissue, and that sets off her emerald eyes and brilliant ginger hair.

This is not the little girl that Stuart and Ewan raised, their daughter has transformed into a striking young woman whom Stuart barely recognises.

He catches her attention by raising one hand in an overt wave and, eagerly she rushes over, dragging a gaudy pink suitcase behind her with more grace than he could ever have managed.

"Dad," she calls out as she engulfs him in a warm embrace. Her accent has softened from her characteristic Glasgow drawl; she has been attending university in London where she lives with her boyfriend, Robbie's son Jamie, and where she is studying English literature.

"How are you? How is everyone?" she asks hurriedly once she has taken a step back. She is no fewer than three inches taller than him he notes as he looks his daughter up and down with a father's typical scrutiny.

She is smiling; a wide candid smile that lights up her entire face and that is ultimately heart warming. He knows that smile, it is the same smile he has seen when Ewan taught her how to play football, when she perfected her first song on the piano, when she passed her exams, when she arrived home from her first date with Jamie.

And Stuart realises, she's still his little girl.

Two updates in one day! Even if they're both bad, I'm quite proud.