When he heard the doorbell ring on New Year's Day, he expected it to be a relative. None of the other nations had wanted to come to his party this year! Of course, the guest list had primarily been relatives to begin with, but still.

And he supposed it would be difficult to make another trip out here so soon after Christmas, but still, he was put out.

When he opened the door, he became even more put out.

He didn't see anyone at first, so he stared out into the hallway of his apartment building, curious. Then he heard a small sound at his feet and looked down.

There was an infant lying at his feet. Next to the baby we're some baby supplies. Alfred quickly scooped up the child and ran down the hallway, searching for whoever may have left her there, but after several minutes searching the halls to no avail, he saw no one.

"Okay, okay, you can do this. You're the hero, of course you can do this," he muttered to himself as he headed back for his apartment. He settled the infant on the couch, surrounding her with pillows so she wouldn't fall and began moving everything inside.

As he lifted the last box, he saw a piece of paper tucked underneath it. He dropped the box and reached for the paper desperately.

Alfred,

I think you know what this means. It's me, Libby Hatch. I can't do this myself. And you said you were pretty well off from your parents. All the paperwork should be filled out for you to take custody, so there's no need to contact me again.

Please don't contact me again. Something weird happened after last time. I don't know, just stay out of my life.

Libby

Alfred cursed loudly and brought the box back into his apartment. Libby Hatch. He remembered her. He'd slept with her, oh, well about ten months ago. But this couldn't be his kid. They couldn't even have kids… right?

He'd have to get a DNA check. He went to his phone and dialed CPS.

"Director!" A tall man with blonde hair called out, running to the woman passing by.

"What, Walters?" She asked, concerned. Walters was watching Hatch.

"Libby's been killed. A car accident, or so the claim is. Sabotage, I'd bet."

"Damn. And the daughter?"

"That's the interesting thing. The daughter wasn't with her. I traced her steps, and, you're not gonna believe this, she handed him off to Jones!"

"Wait, she managed to get the girl to her father?" The Director asked.

"Yeah! Girl should be safe now." Both sighed in relief.

"Good. Assign someone to watch the apartment, just in case. But I think that girl is going to be okay."

After a few days, the news had settled in to Alfred's mind. He had a daughter. His boss was pissed at him, but he didn't know how to feel. A part of him was happy, deliriously so. But another part was terrified. This little girl was dependent on him! What if he couldn't keep her safe? And worse, the niggling fear in the back of his mind whispered that she was part human. She could die, even if just from old age. And he could lose her.

Moreover, who would trust him with an infant? He could barely take care of himself! He hadn't even named the girl for God's sake. As he settled in to finish the paperwork to officially take custody of her- what, he wasn't gonna leave his kid to be adopted, no matter what- he finally did just that.

"Ivy." He said, eyeing the tendrils of that plant climbing the walls of the nearest apartment. "Ivy Jones."

He chugged his coffee before entering the meeting room. He'd need it. Ivy had yet to sleep a full night's rest and he was exhausted. He did his best to put on his usual happy face, but was quickly distracted by his brain reminding him to text Ivy's babysitter to make sure she knew what formula Ivy liked.

He was surprised by a tap on his shoulder, and jumped, quickly sliding his phone into his pocket and turning with a grin, though to outside appearances it looked a little strained.

"Al? You okay?" Matthew asked.

"Yeah Mattie, I'm awesome!" But he oversold it. He spoke at an almost comically loud voice, too loud. Canada narrowed his eyes.

"You're sure about that?"

"Absolutely! Nothing wrong here!" Matthew frowned but accepted this answer, figuring he could get the truth out of his brother later. But he never quite managed it.

Many nations would wonder the same thing as the meeting went on, and America went from a facade of excitability in the morning to grouchiness and was that… worry? But he insisted he was doing "awesome" and no one was able to break through his boundaries.

At the next meeting, everything was back to normal, and they all forgot they'd ever wondered about him or that he was ever behaving strangely in the first place.

"Director? We've detected another child." Walters announced one morning. A crowd formed around him as he finished. "Marie Wilson's new born daughter, Claire. She was traveling Europe during time of conception."

"Alright, What are we waiting for? Let's get a team out there! Before they do."

The specially trained team of agents managed to collect the child before any attempt could be made on the mother's life, and they brought both mother and child to the center.

"What's going on?" Marie asked. "Are you the ones who've been following me?"

"No, Miss Wilson. We're trying to protect you from them."

"I'm sure." Marie scoffed. Suddenly she swayed. She quickly handed Claire over to the Director, frowning.

"What did you do to me? What do want from us?"

"Marie, it's going to be okay. Bashir, get over here!" A young doctor rushed forward, grabbing the woman and easing her to the ground just as she began to seize.

"What are you going to do to Claire?" She wailed. "Why us?" And then she could speak no more.

"Bashir?" The Director asked.

"They must have been right there. We got Claire out just in time. Unfortunately, Marie was poisoned. She's gone."

When, a few months later there was a knock on Alfred's door, he answered it quickly. Still, there was no one but a small child before him.

"Okay I know this one isn't mine!"