"Where's Stephanie?" was the greeting Paul got when he opened his front door to find his father-in-law on the other side. "She's here, right?"

"Hello to you too, Vince," the wrestler grumbled as, taking a step back, he allowed the man to enter his home. "Steph's napping. And keep it down, would ya? The baby-"

"Don't act like I don't know how to act around newborns. I'm great around them!"

"And you show that by yelling?"

While it hadn't caused any tears, their loud conversation (at least on Vince's part) had arose Bluto, the house guard dog (moreover, sleeping giant), who had been resting upstairs, taking a nap with his mother. At the sound of commotion downstairs though, he apparently awoke and let out quite deafening bark before running out of the open bedroom door and right down the stairs, making a huge amount of racket.

Now that, without a doubt, woke up the baby.

And needless to say, Stephanie was not happy about it.

"What are you doing, Paul?" came her complaint from upstairs. "You-"

"It was your Dad-"

"He's the one that was yelling!"

"Just shut up, both of you. What are you even doing here, Vince?"

It took a bit to calm things back down. Or at least get the baby to stop screaming her head off. Steph wouldn't let either Vince nor Paul help in this, choosing instead to blame them for the whole thing. You know, because Bluto could do no wrong. Because he was a baby too (Steph's very frequent words). Honestly, the dog seemed proud of himself, as he'd woken the whole household and alerted them to the intruder. Sure, it was just Vince and, though his very existence at times felt like an intrusion to Paul, he certainly wasn't an intruder.

Just not always invited.

Bluto was resting in the den by the, of course, unlit fireplace, where his father and grandfather were, Paul seated in his chair and Vince the couch, when his mother entered, a still somewhat fussy child in her arms. Bluto beat his tail on the ground, but it hardly even got him a glance.

"What are you doing here?" was what Stephanie said instead of congratulating the obviously good boy on being such a good boy, alerting the entire house of the man that none of them really cared if was around or not. "Dad?"

Vince kept quiet because he was all ready for his newest grandchild, at all of sixteen days old, to be placed in his arms for only about the fourth time in her life.

Instead though, she was given to her father who had already gotten his fair share of holds, given the time frame, Vince felt.

"I can't stop in for visit?" Vince asked instead of voicing his annoyance over the holding of his granddaughter snub. "To my only daughter's house?"

"Without calling?"

"Should I have to?"

Paul, who was staring quite lovingly down at the baby in his arms, did glance up for that, scowl easily befalling his face.

"Yes," he grumbled. "Bad enough I can't get away from you when I'm working. You think when I'm off I wanna see your fu..." Then he frowned. "You think I wanna see your ugly mug?"

"What did you just-"

"Don't raise your voices." Stephanie had gone over to finally reward Bluto for being such a good boy, but wasn't too busy giving him head pats to critique her not so good boys. "Aurora can't tell the difference. You'll upset her again."

And both Vince and Paul fell quiet then s their eyes fell back to the newborn in the latter's arm. She was somewhat wrapped up in one of her baby blankets, but had wiggled her way right out of it, her top half free and one foot sticking out as well. No longer crying, the baby was mostly lying there, blinking up at her father. Her vision still didn't seem too perfect, but she seemed to like to focus on him more and more.

He didn't spend as much time with her though, so far, as Stephanie did. He had to train and work, but Steph had been home for the past two weeks, her full attention devoted to their daughter. This meant at night it was usually Steph she wanted to rock her back to sleep and, honestly, Paul couldn't gripe about that.

Too much.

It still kinda felt surreal to him, honestly. Especially in moments like he was having then, when everyday reality (Vince being over) was bleeding into his new normal (holding his daughter). She still felt so fragile in his arms and he had yet to become accustomed to the concept of holding her. He'd held other babies before, a lot of other babies, he'd even cared for his sister's kids as well as Shane's son, but damn, it just all felt different when what you were cradling was your own.

His nerves were kinda shot, the days leading up to the birth, but man, they were completely fried the day of. Mania jitters had nothing on him that day. It was a Monday, but he was already skipping RAW anyways as Steph was about ready to pop at any moment. And early that afternoon, while he was playing fetch with Bluto out in the yard, Steph informed him just how ready she was.

Paul's entire life had been building to said moment and, in it, he felt completely unprepared. The whole day honestly after the first time Steph told him about her contractions was run in auto pilot. It wasn't until that evening, when everything had died down and he was just sitting there, in the hospital room, looking down at his sleeping baby in his arms, that it even had the semblance of reality.

"You okay?"

He'd lifted his eyes for that, away from his daughter and to his wife who was resting in the cot he was seated beside.

"Yeah," he whispered back, slightly fearful that she would either ask for the newborn back. He didn't feel like giving her up. Not in that moment. Not when she was, finally, thankfully, so quiet. "Why?"

Shaking her head a bit, Steph's eyes drifted down to the baby bundled in his arms before back at him. "I just like seeing you like this, I guess."

"Like what?"

She paused again before she said, "Happy."

This was stifling, in that moment, and Paul frowned, just a bit, for the first time that day.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "I'm always happy."

"Paul."

"I am." Then he glanced down at his daughter as well. "I mean, I'm more happy today, sure, than-"

"I just meant...outwardly." Steph settled back on the bed though her eyes were still on her husband and daughter.

Paul wondered, even two weeks from then, how much weirder the whole concept was to Steph than him. If he was in shock and awe of his child, imagine her, knowing the baby had, you know, actually come out of her.

He felt childish and silly when he thought of things in that way, but he couldn't help it. For something to be so normal and part of everyday existence, he felt it pretty miraculous, honestly, to be holding something new and fresh. Something he made.

It made him feel light headed.

What Steph said though bothered him a bit. Paul never took himself for a happy person, necessarily, but he certainly didn't wished to be viewed as unhappy. Especially by the woman who, up to that point, had made him the happiest. Maybe he didn't...smile often or was vocal with how he was feeling, but he always thought that Steph could pick up on the fact that, for the most part, he was pretty dang ecstatic to be living the life he was given. Even if this was mostly expressed with sullen glares and grunts of disapproval in public.

But that wasn't what she said, was it? He spent the first few days of his daughter's existence bothered by this. Outwardly. That's what she'd corrected her statement to. And was that not the case? His face sure felt that way, cheeks sore from grinning, at times falsely, at his usually either sleeping or fussy (there was rarely middle ground) daughter far more often that he had anything else in his life. It was all he thought about, really, her. This was mainly due to the fact that, only a few days after her birth, he had to get back to traveling the country and entertaining the masses. Even for the appointed son of the company's figurehead, wrestling never took a break.

Just short stoppages along the way.

He started taking stock though of how many times during a day he truly did smile. Or laugh in a condescending way. How often he didn't look like a menacing asshole. Because he didn't want to look that way. He didn't eel that way.

That's what Steph didn't get, when she said that to him. Yes, of course, that he would still be remembering and stressing about something she said while, honestly, probably still a bit doped up following giving birth, but also that a lot of his attitude was just the bleeding through of his carefully crafted show personality and the one he had away from those in the business.

When he was with Steph or his family things were always different. He was always in a far better mood then. Sometimes when it was just the two of them, fine, he might fall back into his usually facade, but it would never just be the two of them again. Now it was the three of them.

"Why can't I hold the baby?"

Or, rather, at the moment, the four of them.

Vince was still a bit peeved, for some reason, about not immediately being presented with the newborn.

And a low moan from Bluto when Steph rubbed his ear just right reminded Paul, actually, it was the five of them and that Aurora did not like the animal's various sounds.

Because believe him, the mutt had many.

Now Vince was certainly not getting the child (he really didn't want her anymore anyways) as Steph came to take the fussy child back, taking a seat beside her husband on the couch while she was at it.

"What'd you come over here for anyways? Vince?" Paul took a break from trying to calm him daughter by wiggling a finger in her face (this had never worked and Steph frequently questioned why he continued to attempt it) to glare over at the man. "Steph's on leave. And I'm off today, which means I have zero desire to even hear your name-"

"Sure is big talk for the man that's constantly up my ass when we're around other-"

"You mean other way around, I you mean anything."

"Stop it." Steph wasn't feeling their bickering that day, to say the least. In jest or not, it was grating on her. "Dad can come and visit, Paul."

Of course he could. And Paul, honestly, didn't care much. He did wish the man had, you know, called first, but he always wished that when it came to the man. He seemed to be very courteous to everyone else in his life other than Steph. And Paul wasn't even sure if it was being un-courteous to Stephanie or in her opinion was being such, as she seemed to like when he father found time to stop by. Even if it was just to raid their fridge and bitch about either her mother or father, Steph was without a doubt very into spending away from work time with her father. This wasn't to say there weren't times when Paul and Steph were more than enjoying themselves, alone, at their home when, oh, wow, there's Vince at the gate, wanting to be let in.

And damn Steph for ever telling him the code to get into the place.

It wasn't like it was prevalent, however, the man stopping by. Maybe once every few months. Short of work, the man rarely felt the need no doubt. If his kids needed him, they almost always knew where to find him. And if they couldn't find him, it was without a doubt intentional. Just like showing up unaccounted always was.

And damn if Paul wasn't sweating it then, worried that he would then begin to do it more, now that he had a new grandchild to attempt to indoctrinate. Err, bond with.

Yes, that's what Paul meant.

He liked Vince, of course. He liked the man plenty. Sure, there were times when he got on his nerves (after all, the guy had a tendency to be more than, well, a lot racist and at other times outright misogynistic intermingled with his usual overbearing personality), but he had a lot of redeeming qualities.

Like having daughter that Paul very much so wanted to fuck and marry and just be with for the rest of his life.

And owning a company that he more than wanted a piece of.

Those two things kinda outweighed the other two in a lot of instances for Paul, to be frank. It would be nice to take a moral stand, at times, against the man, but at the same time it was nice to have a high rank in the company and keep his wife from railing on him.

"I am here for more than just seeing Aurora, of course," Vince informed them about five minutes later when, after she calmed down a bit, the baby was presented to her grandfather to coo at for a bit. A short bit.

Because both Steph and Paul were crazy if they thought Vince had free time in the middle of the afternoon to just come check up on his completely healthy and so far just a normal whining baby of a grandchild.

He liked the kid. He love the kid. He was already reworking his will to include the kid.

But business always came first.

How else would he afford to put her in said will? Hmmm?

"Of course," Paul agreed from where he sat on the couch, a bit put out over Steph not giving the child back to him. "It probably didn't even occur to you until you got here."

"How dare you?" Vince nodded down at his by then snoozing granddaughter. "People can be focused on more than one thing, Paul."

"People can, sure, Vince. But you're not people, are you?"

"I'm a person."

"Are you?"

"Dad, if it has to do with work," Steph begin, wanting to get whatever it was over with before the pair awoke the child once more. But Paul wouldn't let her finish.

"Better not," he said. "Steph's off for another two weeks. No work."

"A week and a half," Vince corrected with a frown.

"A week and a half that you're not gonna bog her down with."

"I need some documents."

"She ain't got 'em."

"What do you know?"

"A lot." Debatable, of course, but most things Paul held as truths were. "And even if she does have it-"

"What is it? Daddy?" Steph was already getting up though, leaving her husband behind to come carefully take her daughter from the man. As she returned her to the arms of her husband, she said over her shoulder, "Is it something I have in my home office?"

"That's why I came."

"Knew it," Paul muttered to himself as he watched them (and Bluto, who was still a bit suspicious of Vince, or at least still extremely clingy with Stephanie) leave the room. "Hear that, baby? Daddy's the only one that cares about you."

She didn't hear it, of course, because she was sleeping, and what he said was hardly audible, but that wasn't too important.

She'd learn to feel it eventually, Paul was sure.

It was creeping up again too. He was very good at telling when it was happening then. Like a complete idiot, Paul was just sitting there in his living room, grinning about nothing. Literally nothing. Because he was tired as shit, his neck had been killing him again, still had to hit the gym, and before long, the baby would be crying again because she was always crying, but in that moment, his chest felt light and he just...happy.

Or delirious.

There was a very good chance he was delirious.

Crying was the main function of his newborn and, of course, she put it to good use soon enough. Stephanie called out to Paul if he needed her, but he knew that Vince and her were busy and only grumbled back, on his way up the stairs, that he could take care of it.

Being gone as often as he'd been already, he figured it was honestly the least he could do.

Even though he hated himself for it because it just had to be a diaper change that was needed.

It always had to be, after all.

Getting her back to sleep was no easy feat after that, but Paul did calm her down some. He'd just laid her down in her crib in the nursery when he was joined. Not by Steph, who was no doubt being annoyingly loving towards her dog (okay, so Paul was a bit jealous of Bluto of late, the little shit), but rather by the woman's father.

He came into the room with his usual bravado, marching right over to the crib where the baby was still making sounds of complaint, to stare down at her as well.

"If you would sandwich her up better, she'd cry a lot less."

Paul blinked. Then frowned. "If I what?"

"If you sandwich her." And then, still standing over the crib, Vince began to motion with his hands. "Like a...like a...wrap!"

"You mean you think I should...swaddle her better?" the younger man asked. "You think her blanket isn't tight enough?"

"Swaddle." Vince made a noise at that word. "Stupid."

"What's stupid?" It was insane, really, how quickly Paul's happy little bubble could be popped. At the moment, all he felt was peeved, just from being around the other man. "Better not be talking about my daughter."

"Of course not." Vince was reaching down for her then. "Only a couple weeks old and already smarter than you."

"Ha ha."

"I never wrapped Shane up in blanket all tight and stuff. You know why?"

"I'm not even really curious, so no."

"It's weak! That's what my father told me. Weak!"

"H-How?"

"That's not important."

"I feel like it kind of is." Paul watched with cross arms as Vince sat the baby back on her changing table, starting from scratch with the swaddling. "I mean, does it just make them feel safe and content and-"

"Why should a baby feel safe? Do you feel safe? No. You're giving them unrealistic expectations. Making man into wussies."

"I don't- What?"

"It's all true, Paul. My father read it in a book somewhere once. Don't ask about it. It's not important."

"You keep saying that about, what I feel, are the most important parts of the story."

"So, I told Linda about this and she shut me down! Can you believe that?"

"I believe you're being too loud."

"But I held firm."

"That's great, Vince."

"But with Stephanie, Linda-"

"Yeah, I'd appreciate it if you didn't say her name like that, where Steph could hear, when she's already so emotional and upset about most everything anyways. Thanks."

"-accused me of not doing it because I didn't know how to...to...wrap a baby."

"To swaddle it, but I feel like saying that word might give you an aneurysm at this point, so just go on."

"So I had to read every book about it! Ask everyone I knew about it! To become the best at it!"

"Again, you're yelling," Paul pointed out though it didn't seem to be bothering the baby much more than just existing was. "Vince."

Of course he was.

When wasn't he.

"And was I ever! Steph was so comfortable in her little blankets and content and happy."

"But I thought that's what you didn't want?"

"It wasn't," the man agreed. "But I had to do it. To prove a point."

"So something you thought would damage your child," Paul said slowly, "you became a master at-"

"To prove a point. Multiple ones, actually."

"Yeah?"

Nodding, Vince glanced over at him. "You know, Shane, being a man, would already be better adjusted and more well rounded and able to handle the world easier than Steph would be, being a woman and all."

"No, I didn't know that, Vince, tell me more."

"The experiment was already sullied because of that-"

"Now you experimented on them. Gets better and better."

"-but I figured I'd see, you know? Which one came out stronger than the other one? More prepared for the horrible world that they'd been thrust into." And, as he finished with getting the baby all snuggly in her own blanket, he asked, "And you know what I found out, Paul? Do you know which one's stronger?"

For a moment, the younger man's brows furrowed. "N-No. Which one?"

"Well, I don't know. That's why I asked ya. Wanted an outside opinion." Vince shrugged a bit. "They both seemed pretty damn adjusted to me."

"Then what the fuck was the point of you telling me that damn story?" Paul asked, unable to hold in his attitude over it. "Vince?"

"Don't you curse in front of my granddaughter. You stupid asshole." Vince gently lifted the child in question back into his arms. She wasn't whining then, but was awake, and only blinked up at the man."She's too precious to hear your filth."

"But not that terrible story?"

"I was trying to impart some wisdom on you. Father to father."

"What wisdom? You proved nothing other than giving me some new idiosyncrasies to worry about you genetically passing on to my children."

Vince snorted. "That's the exact same kind of response Shane had."

"I mean, I'm shocked it wasn't banning you from seeing his son, considering you were actually experimenting on him. I'm sure if I told this story to Stephanie-"

"Steph things I'm great, no matter what I do."

That actually was the most truthful thing that had been uttered in that house that day and caused Paul not only to pause at the implications, but also frown at them.

"Sit." Vince wasn't one to consider too deeply his own words, however (though he was known to over analyze every single one another person spoke to him). Nodding at the rocking chair, he added, "Now."

Paul followed his command almost immediately and with little thought, hardly getting settled in the chair that he was a bit fearful of collapsing under his mass before Vince placed Aurora into his arms.

"There." The older man nodded approvingly. "She's much better now. Thanks to me."

Rolling his eyes would have been appropriate, but instead Paul's fell down to his daughter's face, watching as she blinked sleepily up at him. Softly, he muttered, "Thanks, Vince."

"Don't thank me." Then he paused. "For this. I was just proving I still got it. Shane won't let me wrap his kid. Now I can wrap yours."

"You're not experimenting on our children, Vince."

"Of course not." Reaching a hand out, the back of his finger stroked gently against his youngest grandchild's cheek, getting a subdued noise in response. "You only do that on your own kids."

"Well, normal people don't, but you do, yeah."

"I do have great stories about other things, of course."

"Haven't you always?"

"Baby related," he clarified. "Like those insane, 'No loose blankets in the crib,' stories."

"Yeah, those aren't insane and my baby or my nephew aren't choking to death to prove a point to you."

"Don't even get me started on pacifiers-"

"I wasn't planning to."

Stopping mid breath, the man nodded before he said, "That's okay." Then he reached out to pat Paul on the shoulder. "We'll have plenty of time for all of those."

And Vince smiled too. It wasn't a showy one or devious. It wasn't for the benefit of others or theatrical. It was the one saved for rare moments, like his daughter's wedding or watching his son preform, and meant so much more when one occurred.

"Enjoy it," was what he offered as he turned to leave the room then. "Won't last forever. Nothin' does."

Paul didn't have a chance to reply (he wasn't even sure if he was going to) because the second he'd shut the nursery door behind him, Vince was yelling out to Steph if she'd found the damn papers yet.

"Thanks, Vince," the younger man sighed, unsure if he meant it to be snarky, given the fact that the yelling caused the baby in his arms to start whining, or an actual expression of gratitude for...whatever had just occurred in that room.

As he took to rocking the baby, Paul decided it was both.

"Daddy's gone."

Paul frowned up at Steph when she came into the room, still rocking the baby, both tired by that point, it seemed, but the child unable to find sleep and him not allowed to.

"Daddy's here," the man grumbled at his wife as she and her dog came over to check on the child. Well, Steph did. Bluto went to fall on the floor, tired from barking downstairs at Vince as he left the house. "And he's been here."

"Mmmm." Steph rested a hand on his shoulder as she leaned down for a kiss. After getting it, she asked, "Did you want to take her? And you can go-"

"I got her," he said. "You go rest some more, baby. I'll join you soon."

"'kay." It took little convincing, honestly, to get either of them to take well deserved naps in those days. "If you need me-"

"Us," he corrected as, with a groan, Bluto got up to follow her when she headed to the door. "If I need the two of you, you mean."

"We'll," Steph corrected with a giggle as the dog trotted along behind," just be in the bedroom."

It wasn't like Paul had to wait long. Eventually the weariness won out and the baby was sleeping once more. Not until he had her resting once more in her crib did it occur to the man that, hey, she'd be hungry in, oh, about twenty minutes or so and he shouldda had Steph feed her before she went back to nap.

"But that sounds like Mommy's problem," he muttered to his baby as he grinned down at her. "Don't it?"

Moot, really, as her problems were always his problems, but as he went to go fall into his own bed for, at the very least, a good ten minutes, Paul really didn't care to think about it.

Though his head was pressed into the pillow, Paul didn't need to see to find Steph's hand on the bed, easily folding his larger one over it.

His neck still hurt, his conversation with Vince still made no sense, Bluto was still an asshole (for some reason the dog was sleeping on the end of the bed and totally drooling on his feet), Aurora would be up again soon, and, of course, he still needed to get that workout in, but in that moment, yeah, Steph had been right, he was different.

Because even with all that on his mind, his delirious mind, he was still glad to be home.

Happy.

No matter what his father-in-law said, he was certain at least one thing did last forever.


Someone wanted a story about the labor and I just didn't see that as a viable, real story, so you got this instead. I'll do one for the other two as well, of course.