A/N: This exists in a kind of AU season 1, starting somewhere after Jason goes to Austin and meets Suzy. I have no timeline other than that, I just wanted some happy fluffy fluff where good things happen and no bad things happen. Also, Taya's name is a reference to this family I once knew whose names were Tim, Tyra, Tia and Taya. It seemed like something Tyra would do.

Title is from "Sweet Jane" by the Velvet Underground, as made famous by Cowboy Junkies.

"I don't know what I'm doing."

"That's apparent," Lyla said without even bothering to find out what the context was. Whatever it was, he probably had no idea what he was doing, so it was a safe bet.

"Can you come here? I need your help."

His voice sounded just desperate enough for Lyla to feel some real, genuine concern for him, and she sighed. "Tim, I—" I don't want anything to do with you. I hate you for leaving me and getting Tyra pregnant. I am still completely and desperately in in love with you and I don't think I'm strong enough to see you. "—I'll be right there."

Tim had not wanted to phone Lyla. He was still avoiding her, ten months later, unable to face the fact that he'd made a horrible, horrible mistake. She had broken up with him, sort of—she had yelled at him and told him that he was awful and useless and a drunk and he wasn't going to ever be anything, that he might as well go have some meaningless sex with Tyra for all she cared since clearly, meaningless sex was all he was good for. He wasn't even sure he could remember what he'd done to make her so angry, although he had a sneaking suspicion it was a fit of rage directed at Street and his tattooed, bespectacled whatever-she-was and that he had just been a convenient target. But since meaningless sex with Tyra was all the love of his life thought he was good at, he'd had meaningless sex with Tyra. And now, here they were.

This hadn't been how it was supposed to go. He'd had a lot of meaningless sex and a lot of it was with Tyra, and never once had they even had so much as a scare, so when she threw the test at him, he was sure it had to be a mistake. She told him she was going to take care of it and disappeared off the face of the planet. Good riddance, he supposed, but all the while it had made him sad in some way he couldn't quite place.

So when she showed up, dropped a car seat in the front hall, handed him some papers, and told him not to call or track her down, all he could think to do was call Lyla. Surely Lyla would know what to do. She was good with these kinds of things—problems that needed solving. He was not. And besides that, what the hell was he supposed to do when this thing pooped?

"I'm sorry," he said as soon as Lyla walked in, and briefly wondered what it said about him that he spent a fairly decent percentage of the time he spent with Lyla apologizing. Probably that he was a total dick and he needed to work on that. Probably.

Lyla, however, ignored him, going straight for the baby in the car seat. "Jesus, Tim, why didn't you just pick her up?" she asked.

Tim blinked. "Uh." As soon as Lyla picked her up, the baby stopped, sighing and sucking on her bottom lip, tucking into Lyla's shoulder like she belonged there. "I don't know."

"She probably needs to eat," Lyla said, bouncing the baby on her shoulder, patting her bum, her voice all business. "And then she'll probably need her diaper changed. What's her name?"

"Um…Taya." Not that he'd had any say in it, but it was kind of embarrassing to him. Taya. Tim, Tyra, and Taya. What the hell?

"Taaaayyyyya," Lyla sing-songed. "You hungry, baby Taya? Let's find you something to eat…Tim? Does she have a bottle?"
"Uh." He rummaged around in the little diaper bag and pulled out a small bottle of Enfamil, probably free from the hospital but thank God for the hospital. "Here."

Lyla held out her hand for the bottle, handing him Taya in exchange. He froze. "Uh."

"Timothy Riggins, are you trying to tell me you've never held a baby before?"

Her tone of voice made Tim feel sheepish, and he shrugged. "Maybe."

"Oh my God. Here, sit down." Practically shoving him onto the couch—which would have been kind of sexy under different circumstances. "Here, hold your arms like a cradle, like you're doing rock a bye baby, and…" she settled Taya down in his arms. "Just make sure you support her head…oh, Tim, that looks good on you." If he didn't know any better, he'd have thought Lyla was going to cry. "Here, let me take your picture and I'll go get this warm for her."

As she disappeared off into the kitchen, an evil, fleeting thought passed through Tim's brain: motherhood looks damn good on her.

Once Taya had food in her stomach, she stopped looking so much like an angry old man, her little face relaxed, staring around at her new surroundings, and she was actually pretty cute, with her fine soft hair and her big eyes. "I love you," Tim told the top of her head, and he was surprised to realize he meant it.

"Okay," Lyla said, coming back out of the kitchen, "there are no diapers anywhere in that so called diaper bag, so we're going to have to go buy some, but maybe we should drive into Austin so nobody sees us here." Not that she was ashamed, exactly, but it was a small town, and she wasn't about to explain to the rest of the rally girls why she was playing Happy Families with Tim Riggins and Tyra Collette's love child. "Here, I'll get her strapped in, you go get dressed."

Tim looked down. "I am dressed."

"Timothy, you are not going to buy your newborn daughter diapers in a shirt with god knows what on it and your boxer shorts."

He got dressed.

Taya slept most of the hour long drive to Austin, and Lyla seized the opportunity to ask Tim what the hell happened.

"About 3 or 4 weeks after you, after we—Tyra came and told me she was pregnant, and that she was gonna take care of it. And then she just kind of disappeared and Mindy told me she was staying with their aunt and I figured, well, that's kind of a hard thing—" he swallowed, looking over at Taya. Don't think about it. "But then she came back this morning and was like here's your kid don't talk to me ever again. And you know, I just was like…I don't know. I thought she was, you know…I don't get it. If she changed her mind, cool. Whatever. But I don't fucking get what motivates people. I mean, if you're going to have an abortion without telling me first, fucking fine. Don't ask my opinion. Do whatever you want with your body, but to tell me that you're going to have one without even asking my my opinion, let me think that you had one, let me fucking grieve that goddamn fucking baby, and then show up at my doorstep and literally just hand over the baby and tell me not to talk to you again? Who the fuck does that? Who the fuck?" He banged his hands on the steering wheel and Taya stirred, but Lyla's gentle hand on her hair caused her to settle back into sleep.

"God, Tim," she said softly. "I don't know. That's horrible, I'm sorry."

He shrugged and gripped the steering wheel a little harder than necessary. They didn't speak again until they passed the Austin city limits sign, and he announced that he was hungry and pulled into a Raising Cane's. "Are you coming in?" he asked.

Lyla glanced at Taya. "I'll stay here with her," she said, "just bring me some fries."

"C'mon," he urged her, "she'll just sleep in the car seat the whole time."

I do not want to play Happy Families with you, Lyla thought. She got out of the car.

It took them 45 minutes of driving around to find the Babies r Us, with Tim cursing and driving in circles and Lyla cursing under her breath and Taya screaming in her car seat between them in a diaper that had expired approximately 45 minutes earlier, and by the time they finally found it, Lyla was almost beginning to understand Tyra's motivations. Almost. But almost as soon as Tim had the truck parked, he had Taya in his arms, kissing the top of her head. "Aw, sugar," he was saying, "it's okay, don't you cry now. See? We're gonna get you some diapers and some milk and a crib and…whatever other shit babies need. I don't know…that's m—Lyla's job, she knows everything. But we're gonna take good care of you, you wrinkly little baby girl, because I'm your dad and I'm not gonna ever leave you."

Did he almost call me mommy? It didn't matter. Watching him, looking almost as small and vulnerable as Taya did, Lyla knew that she couldn't turn back now.

"First things first, you're going to go need to buy a little package of diapers and change her before her diaper literally falls off her butt. In the meantime I'm going to start getting some of the essentials, okay? I figure we'll charge ever—why are you looking at me like that?"

"Uhhhh…Lyla? I don't—I've never—I can't…"

"Are you saying you've never changed a diaper?"

Tim nodded. "You do it."

Lyla shook her head. "Uh-uh. No way. I'll teach you, but you gotta learn. I'm not going to be there every time she needs her diaper changed."

He felt like saying 'you're not?' but thought better of it, holding out his hand and letting Lyla lead him into the bathroom.

Changing diapers turned out to be not as bad as Tim had been imagining, but the aisles and aisles of clothes and contraptions and bottles and a million different kinds of formula were causing his head to spin a little.

"I think a mini crib is best," Lyla was saying. "You don't have a whole lot of room in your house and I'm going to guess that she's going to share a room with you, so let's pick one out that matches, oh, look, this one's cute and—Tim? Tim?! Are you crying?"

"I can't do it! I can't fucking do this, Lyla, that tiny little package of diapers cost ten dollars and it's gonna last me all of a day, those big ones cost like, 30 dollars, I don't have 30 dollars to spend on something I'm going to throw in the garbage! I can't do this. Fuck. I want to send her back. Give her up for adoption. Something. I can't do this, I can't do this, fuck!"

"Hey. Hey." Lyla wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. "I know, I know it's scary. And it's overwhelming. And it's a whole lot worse because her mom just up and left her and maybe you're dealing with your feelings about that but I'm here, and—look at me—we're going to do this together. We're a team."

Tim wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I promise."

More money than Tim even wanted to think about later, the bed of his truck was full of baby stuff and he wasn't sure what to do next. "Lyla?"

"Yeah?" Lyla replied absent-mindedly, stroking Taya's cheek.

"I dunno if I'm ready to go home yet."

Instead once they got back to Dillon he found himself sitting in Mrs. Coach's office while Lyla and Taya waited outside, to "discuss his future options".

"Good to see you, Tim, what can I help you with?"

"I had a baby," he said, then shook his head. "Uh. Tyra had a baby. It's mine, and…" the rest of the story came tumbling out in one big long run on sentence. "…Lyla thinks I should come back to school and shit and finish but I just don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to do, I've only had her for a couple of hours and it's…shit."

Mrs. Coach, for her part, looked like he might as well have been speaking Swahili. "That sounds like a lot for you, and I know that you struggle with school anyway. You could do homebound learning or I could try to see if one of the alternative schools in Austin had a space for you…usually they only take young women with babies, but I'm sure they'd make an exception. Of course, either one of those options takes away your option to play football, so…"

"No."

"Tim, I know that football means a lot to you, but you have to consider…"

"I said no."

"Well, I don't, I mean I'm sure that this goes against some sort of code of professional ethics, but there is one other option…"

And that was how Mrs. Coach ended up babysitting Taya, scheduling appointments around her naps and enlisting Julie to bring her to watch practice. Tim or Lyla went by at breaks and lunch, to change her diaper or feed her or just give her a kiss or a hug. Although he was getting less than zero sleep and hadn't had more than five minutes to himself in months, it was the best incentive to stay in school he'd ever had, somehow.

One afternoon Lyla went by to pick Taya up on her way home—there was a game the next day and she wanted to make Tim a little something, not that they were dating or anything, just because she cared about him, she definitely wasn't in love with him—and Mrs. Coach cornered her. "Lyla, can I talk to you a minute?"

"Yeah, sure, what is it?" she asked, bouncing Taya, tickling her under her chin to make her grin that big gummy grin that reminded her so much of Tim.

"You—how are you doing?" she asked in that all-business voice that meant that what she was really asking had nothing to do with how Lyla was doing.

Lyla sat down. "Um, okay. Busy, you know, with Taya and rally and homework and everything, but I'm okay…"

"You know," Tami said carefully. "You aren't Taya's mother—she's not your responsibility. It's very sweet that you're trying to help Tim but if it gets too much for you, you don't need to feel like you have an obligation to her."

Yes I do, Lyla started to say, but it died on her lips and instead she said "I know, thank you," strapping Taya into her car seat and leaving before the conversation could go any further.

The front door was open and George Strait was playing when Lyla arrived at the Riggins house with Taya's car seat on one arm and a bag of chocolate chip cookies and Lone Star on the other. "Tim?" she called. "Where are you and why does it smell like burnt toast?"

"Uhhhh….no reason. Don't come in here!"

"Okayyyy…well, Taya and I brought you something," she sing-songed, lifting Taya out of her car seat and kissing her. "I'm gonna go change her diaper."

"There's something for you on the bed," Tim replied without leaving the kitchen.

"Okay…" she walked with Taya into the bedroom, cooing at her all the way, only to find matching mommy and me dresses—blue with white flowers—kind of haphazardly thrown on the bed in a way only Tim could. "Taya, look," she cooed. "Look what daddy got us. He—he loves u—you so much!"

The entire Riggins dining room was lit by candles, and there was a frozen pizza, burnt around the edges, on the coffee table. "See how pretty Tay—what's all this?"

"Uhhh…" Tim came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron sheepishly. "It's…for you?"

Do not kiss him, Lyla willed herself, settling Taya into her swing and turning it on. "For me?"

Tim nodded, perching with uncharacteristic nervousness on the edge of the couch. "I thought, I mean, everything you do for me, for us…I mean, you've been here every night for three months and you've changed as many diapers as I have and…"

"Uh-huh…" Lyla's head was spinning, trying not to hope for what she was desperately hoping for. She had all but moved out of her mother's house the day Tim brought Taya home, and despite the incessant phone calls, the empty threats of grounding and taking her car away, being with Tim and Taya seemed significantly more important than spending time with her mother constantly bitching out her father in front of her and her brother and sister. Tim and Taya needed her, she reasoned.

"I, uh. I don't know how to say this, but…I mean, I really appreciate everything you've, you do for me and for Taya and, I, well…"

"Yes?" the tone of his voice, unreadable, was making Lyla nervous.

"I was, fuck. I don't know how to say this so I'm just going to fucking say it. Lyla, I love you. I love you so much. You've been the best mom ever to Taya and just…I mean, when I asked you to come help me with her on that first day I thought you'd just help me figure stuff out and leave, but…you stayed. Which is more than her own mom did, you know? I mean, what I'm asking is—" he stopped, ran his fingers through his hair, and muttered "fuck" under his breath, and leaned in to kiss her.

Lyla's heart felt like it was going to break out of her chest, and when he finally broke the kiss, she cupped his face in her hands. "You asking me to be yours, Tim Riggins?"

He smirked. "Might be."

"Then yes. The answer is yes."

Tim leaned in to kiss her again, and Lyla smiled into it. In her swing, Taya smiled and babbled at her toys, and just this once, all was right in their world.