Here's a little one-shot that I wanted to write. Hope you like it.

It was the cheeks that always got him. They weren't like the angular cheeks that he saw expressed in the average dauntless people. Light, porcelain skin draped those cheeks. They were soft and round; the perfect sign of innocence. Except, they weren't. They were the devil's cheeks, a façade in themselves. However Four was the only one that noticed. Everyone else saw past the cheeks and fell straight for the eyes; those striking gray eyes that hinted blue near the pupil could fool anything and anyone. Four's 3 month old son was a con artist.

No one seemed to believe him nor would they try to understand where he was coming from.

"He's just a baby Tobias, barely even sitting his head up yet." Tris always sided against him, believing that her baby was not capable of what mischief he causes on a daily basis. She never seemed to consider that her son was a byproduct of the toughest people in Dauntless nay the entire faction society. No. He was just a baby; not capable of any harm.

"No. Tris, you have to believe me. He's the devil's spawn."

"Tobias, just look at him."

And he did. Theodore's eyes were trained up at him and his mouth hinted at an ever so small smile. Damn this kid was good, Four thought to himself. And then a split second later he was in Tris's arms gurgling happy gurgles.

"Why does daddy think you're the devil's spawn," said Tris in a slight baby tone causing Theodore to smile a gummy smile as spit coated his lips as well. "Here, why don't you go back with daddy?"

Almost in an instant Theodore's smile disappeared and his arms lowered down to his sides. Tris's faint laugh was heard in the background.

"I'm going to go pick up some stuff at the store with Christina. Are you sure you can handle some time alone with our devil spawn?"

"Doesn't matter," he said with a huff. "You're just going to leave anyways despite what I say."

She leaned down to kiss both of their foreheads with a ruffle of Theodore wispy brown locks. "You know me so well."

And with that she left her son balanced on the hip of her husband.

As Tris left the apartment, Theodore's attention was once drawn back to Four. His young face expressed a sort of passive expression as if he didn't care whether his father was there or not.

"You are some trouble you know that." And as if the small infant understood clearly, he shut his eyes and lifted his shoulders slightly. "Theodore Kinnaird Eaton, a baby con artist. Who would've guessed?"

As the time passed he realized that Tris was doing more than just going to the store.

"I don't know about you mini me, but I'm starving," Theodore looked up at his father with hopeful eyes. "And since your preferred…uh source of food isn't here we'll have to suffice."

So with his son still perched on his hip he heads towards the direction of their refrigerator. Inside sat bottles of prepared milk that Tris made the day before. He grabbed two of the bottles setting them on the counter as he repositioned Theodore on his hip. He grabbed the bottles and set them in the microwave to warm up the milk so it would be consumable for the infant later. During the entire time of his skilled movements attracted Theodore's eyes. And when he left the kitchen to retrieve the diaper bag from his room, Theodore managed to set a frown on his face in disappointment. Protesting gurgles from him caused Four to look down at his son still balanced on his hip.

"What," he got no reply but what did you expect from a 3 month old. "You'll get to eat, I'm just trying to get your stuff together buddy."

His only reply this time was the deepening of Theodore's frown.

When seeing Four any other day, many would feel inferior under his intimidating glance. Some would cower and some would simply look away, not wanting to catch his glance. However, today Four wasn't scaring anybody. Well it would be kind of hard to while cradling a baby against your chest while tilting a nippled bottle towards its mouth. And the diaper bag slung across his body wasn't supporting his scary image. But Four wasn't concerned about his personal image or the Dauntless citizens that were faltering in their steps to stare at him. No; all his attention was drawn towards the small life form cradled against his body with its eyes closed sucking silently on the body he held. It was an adorable sight yet an abnormal one to the eyes of the Dauntless citizens.

As Four got closer to the pit-closer to the dining hall- he started to catch more attention. Well not Four but Theodore. Four was an everyday person, but Theodore, he was a whole different sight all together. But it was cute one.

Theodore stretched his arms up over his head as the milk started to diminish. When Four finally retracted the nipple from his son's mouth, his lips smacked together until he yawned forming a perfect O with his mouth. And to only think that this morning he was the devil's spawn-bounded on mischief. But Four still thinks that he is, there was no doubt in Four's mind that his son was up to nothing but trouble. However he had a hard time supporting his theory when his son was snuggled up to his chest, his fist clenching at the air and his eyes closed.

Zeke was sitting at table alone when Four got to the dining hall ready to take his own share of a meal. Theodore was resting in his arms quietly just staring up at his father.

"Hey man," his eyes shifted towards where Theodore was laying in Four's arms. "Hey devil's spawn."

"Don't mock me Zeke," Four's own eyes glanced down at his freakily-cute son. "It's true no matter what cute mask he puts up."

In response Theodore gurgled in protest, flailing his chubby limbs in scattered directions. His smooth, porcelain skin wrinkled in the forehead expressing his distaste in the conversation topic. Four's body stilled, carefully watching his son's movements as if he was a ticking time bomb ready to explode.

"Look at you Four," Zeke huffed in exasperation. "He has you wrapped his tiny, chubby fingers. I'm just waiting for you to figure that out." Theodore gurgled to this.

"What-what are you talking about?"

"Think about it. Why would a tiny infant that can't even walk yet threaten you? Face it man; you're whipped, by your own damn son nonetheless."

Four considered this option for a second. Was it possible that his own son was playing him this whole entire time, just to get what he wanted which was mainly Tris and food? Although both of those pretty much corresponded with each other. He put it to even more thought. All of those times where Four was scar-anxious that his son would throw a fit he had given him to Tris, which was what he wanted right? Right then and there all of it clicked into place. His own son was playing him. And all Theodore had to offer was another one of his gummy smiles coated in saliva.

"You little sneak," Four raised the 3 month old over his head. "Why, why would you do this to me?"

The whole interaction caused people to stop and stare. However Theodore was tickled about the whole situation. His babyish giggles sounded throughout the pit as if his father was the funniest thing in the world. It didn't faze him that he has been using his father as his personal slave this entire time. But that's what you get with little devils.

So that's the end. I'm pretty sure I'm not going to continue this; I just felt like writing a cute, somewhat funny one-shot with daddy Four. I kind of liked the whole thing where they were using Theo James's name as the name of the baby but instead I used the full out spelling of his name instead of Theo like other stories. Also instead of James as the middle name, I got a little creative. Well anyways, tell me what you think.

Peace&Love~VS