Title: '3 Docs and a Baby' (while I think of something better)
Author: Triggersaurus
Website: http://www.geocities.com/er_trig/triggersfics.html
Rating: There's bad words. If you don't wanna read 'em, cover your eyes!
Summary: While at college, Carter has to share a flat with Doug Ross and Mark Greene when he fails to get a dorm place. Then a package turns up on their doorstep and suddenly they all have a small, pink problem.
Notes: Yeah, consider it a weird crossover with cheesy 80's movie "3 Men and a Baby".
================
The books lay all over the floor, the coffee table, and most of the desk that Mark sat at. He squinted hard at the tiny lines of text in front of him, trying to glean some information to add to his notes before him. Unfortunately, it was the fifth time he had read the same sentence and no matter how hard he concentrated, the thumping of headboard against wall and the loud moaning kept interrupting. Here he was, trying to study for an important bio-chem test, and all Doug could do in preparation was hump like a wild animal. Mark rubbed his head again as the girl screamed. He was beginning to think he could feel a bald spot coming on from where he massaged. That was Doug's fault too, all those damn women. Why did he have to pick screamers? He looked back down at his textbook again and sighed.
On the other side of the apartment, the front door clicked open and college freshman John Carter came in, shutting the door behind him and hanging the smart duffell coat on the hook next to Mark's zip-up tracksuit top and Doug's leather jacket.
"Hey." He nodded in Mark's direction. "Want a coffee or anything? I went shopping." He dumped two enormous plastic bags on the kitchen counter and crashed about looking for a clean spoon.
"No thanks, Carter. Do you have any idea what caffeine does to your metabolism?"
"Not yet. Give me a few years."
"Wanna know now? Bio-chem test tomorrow, 9am."
"Uhm." Carter looked towards the paper-thin wall that seemed to be moving with each progressivly harder thump from the other side. "Is that Doug?"
"And friend."
"Oh. Uhm." He turned away, a little embarrassed, and poured hot water over the coffee beans. At that moment, Doug's friend let forth another scream, and Carter jumped, hot water flying in all directions but particularly, it seemed, onto Mark's desk, notes, hands and lap.
"FOR FUCK'S SAKE, CARTER!" Mark yelled as he leapt from his seat, shaking the burning water from his hands.
"Sorry, sorry. Here...let me..." He tried to lean over the counter with a dishcloth to wipe the water from the desk and the pages of notes, but only succeeded in smudging the ink further and knocking over a bag full of tins on the counter.
"Carter, just leave it, okay? Leave it." Mark's jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth, and he readjusted his glasses, looking at the spoilt work.
"I'm really sorry..."
"Don't worry about it."
"Are you sure..."
"CARTER!"
The doorbell rang.
"I'll get it," Carter said quietly, walking out of the kitchen and across the living area, and tripped right over a training weight before he reached the door. Trying to smoothen his now crumpled and water-stained shirt down, he reached for the door handle and pulled at it hard, accustomed to the fact that it stuck. By the time he opened the door, whoever had rung the bell had gone. Sticking his head out, he peered around the doorframe to the left and then the right. No-one. 'Probably some other students with nothing else better to do,' he thought, and swung the door to close again. Except it had stuck over something on the floor and wouldn't shut properly. Yanking it open again, ready to press down uplifted carpet, Carter looked straight down into the blue eyes of a baby wearing a pink all-in-one suit and a white bonnet.
"Uhm..." he said, looking frantically back towards Mark. Mark, however, was clearing the desk and trying to rescue his notes, and paying no attention to Carter at all. Carter's eyes flicked back to the carry-crib. Being careful not to touch the form in it, he reached hesitantly down for the slip of folded notepaper that was stuck to one side. He read it once, and then again just to check he hadn't imagined the whole thing.
"Carter, what the hell are you doing?" Doug leant against the doorframe of his room, arms folded over his bare chest.
"I..uh.."
"Banging the door about ruins a guy's concentration ya know."
"Uhm."
"Whatcha got there anyway?"
"It's...I think it's a baby."
"A what?!" Mark said, from the kitchen.
Doug walked over to the door, pulling up the waistband of his boxer shorts a little. He moved past Carter to the crib and looked down at it.
"What do you mean, you 'think' it's a baby, Carter? Obviously it IS a baby."
"I know."
"Let me see." Mark pushed past and craned his neck over Doug's shoulder. "Oh man."
"What are we gonna do?"
"Turn it in to the police or something."
"No, uhh...I think," Carter swallowed, holding the notepaper, "I think it might be mine."
The others turned to face him.
"Yours?" They moved towards him, as he started to step backwards.
"I, last year, I had a girlfriend and we, you know, we did-"
"Yeah yeah, we get the message."
"Uh, and anyway, we broke up and-" he slipped on a book, and wobbled trying to regain his balance. "She went away somewhere and I tried calling her but she was never in and her parents had a big argument with my family and stopped talking, and..."
"You made this girl pregnant and now she's dumped the kid on our doorstep?"
"Uhm. Yes. Yes, I think so."
Suddenly, a loud wail filled the air, followed by the sound of a sharp intake of breath before another loud, almost primal, scream shattered the panicked silence. The three guys stood in the centre of their apartment and looked at each other in horror, Carter reaching for his ears first, shortly followed by Mark and then Doug.
"CARTER! Do something about it!" Mark yelled over the noise.
"Me?"
"Yeah, it's your kid!" Doug winced.
"But, but. I don't know what to do!"
"Do anything!"
"Like what?!"
"I don't know!" Mark looked at him in exasperation.
"Put a sock in its mouth!"
"I can't do that, it'll choke!"
"Kidding, Carter, kidding."
"Pick it up!"
"I don't wanna pick it up! You pick it up!"
"I'm not picking it up!"
"Pick it up!"
"NO!"
"We need a pacifier or something!"
"Well we DON'T HAVE ONE!"
"Doug...?" A blonde head appeared around the door of Doug's room and took in the scene of the three guys yelling at each other. Looking towards the source of the catawaling, she crept over to the baby, wearing a large baseball shirt. Gently she prised the squirming infant from its crib and held it delicatley in her arms, the head resting on her shoulder, the cries coming to a gradual halt. Stunned by the peace, Mark, Doug and Carter stopped yelling and turned around.
"Oh, aren't you the cutest little thing ever? Aren't you? Hmm?"
After a few moments, Doug took a step towards her.
"Christy?"
"Mmm?"
Mark and Carter breathed a sigh of relief - Doug was probably gonna convince her to stay and help them figure out this mess.
"I thought you said I was the cutest thing ever a few minutes ago?" He grinned broadly at her, his head ticked to one side.
Carter groaned under his breath and Mark stomped over to the couple.
"Look, are you gonna stay and help us with this baby?"
Christy frowned.
"No, I'm not some slave! Who the hell are you anyway?" She looked him up and down angrily.
"He's just-"
"And how come you're going bald, what are you, 60?"
Mark's mouth closed into a very straight line for a few seconds. "Okay, that's it, get out of here."
"Mark! Don't!"
"Sorry, Doug. You'll just have to call up Emily, or Kelly, or Samantha or any of the other girls that have been here over the past week."
"Christy! Wait!" But it was too late. Shoving the baby into Doug's arms, she stormed out stopped only momentarily to grab her purse from the floor by the door. The door slammed shut behind her.
"Well thanks a lot, Mark! What the fuck did you have to do that for?"
"Shut up, Doug."
"No, no I won't shut up-" But he did indeed shut up, as a series of even more violent screams and wails let fly from the lungs of the tiny individual he held. So shocked was he that he almost dropped the baby, looking down at it in surprise as if he had forgotten he was holding her. Carter, standing as far away as possible from the previous angry scene, looked in horror at Doug. Mark winced and rubbed his ever increasing bald spot.
"Uhhh..." Doug slipped his arms about and held the child out at arm's length, as far away from his ears as possible. Taking small steps, jiggling the infant he walked towards Mark, who backed off quickly leaving the path free to Carter. It took a few moments for it to sink in where Doug was headed, but when Carter finally realised, he made a dash around the old armchair to the door where he stopped briefly with his hand on the doorknob.
"I have to, uh...I need more shopping! I'll be back later." And he was gone.
"CARTER! Shit. Mark..."
"No, no no no. I have a biochem test tomorrow. So do you. But, unlike you, I happen to care about passing it. Therefore, I will be at Murphy's, with my notes. Have fun, see you later." And then he was gone too, leaving only Doug and the baby.
When Carter returned, clutching yet more bags of shopping, he was greeted by a scene of total destruction. The apartment seemed to have tipped itself over and then stood up again just as he came through the door. Books, a basketball, three socks, two pennants, a banana, a six pack of beer, pencils, pens, even a plant all lay on the floor. One of the coffee tables was upside down. There was a strange smell coming from the couch. On an armchair was the crib, and in it the baby. Still screaming. In front of the chair on the floor was Doug, waving a pack of noodles in one hand and shaking a cheerleader's pom-pom in the other, mouthing words that couldn't be heard clearly above the crying. He'd managed to get some pants on, but seemed to have somehow burnt a hole in one of the legs. His face must have developed at least twenty wrinkles since Carter had left, and when he noticed his roommate was back, he picked up the crib, holding it away from him and rushed towards Carter.
"Thank God you're back, where have you been? She's stinking out our apartment, please tell me you got baby stuff in that bag because I don't know what the hell we're gonna do otherwise. What do you even buy for babies anyway?"
"I...I got some of everything. I didn't know, I mean, there was so much stuff and I don't know how old it is, I mean how old SHE is. And the diapers were all different makes so I had to get loads of those too..."
"Okay, okay. Here, hold her. Lemme see whatcha got." He handed the crib over and tipped out one of the bags. Small jars of baby food ran in all directions.
"Ya think she's hungry? Maybe that's why she's crying. Maybe if we give her some of this she'll shut up." He eyed a jar. "Chicken and gravy," he read aloud from the side. "Looks more like something someone threw up, but whatever you say." He pulled at the lid until it popped open. "Okay, Carter. Put it down on the chair. Did you get a spoon or something?"
"No...here, use one of ours." He passed a small teaspoon from a drawer.
"Okay. Okay. Here goes." Doug dipped the spoon in a pointed it towards the baby, eventually dropping it into the open mouth, tensed for silence to happen. The baby girl closed her mouth for a moment to contemplate the contents, swallowed a bit, then started crying again, the food dribbling down her chin.
"Oh no no noooo. Please shut up, please?" Doug put the jar down on the carpet and rubbed his eyes. "Carter, you try it. Maybe you'll have some biological link or something." He got up and shuffled out of the way as Carter nervously took up the firing position. Putting some more of the soft substance onto the spoon he leaned forward and pushed it into the screaming orifice. Nothing happened, and more fell out onto the pink suit the baby was wearing.
"It's not working, Doug! She's not eating it!"
"Well I don't KNOW Carter, if the kid doesn't want to eat then she's not gonna! Why else do babies make noise?"
Carter's eyes grew wider as his look flew to the several cartons of diapers on the kitchen table.
"Oh no! Doug, you have to help me, please. Please?"
"Your kid, Carter."
"DOUG! C'mon! Just this one time, please? I thought you wanted to be a pediatrician!"
"Pediatricians don't change diapers." Doug grumbled, wandering back into the room, and passing the first box of diapers to Carter, who was struggling to lift the baby out of the crib. Having successfully removed her, and holding her at arm's length, he looked around.
"Where can we do this?"
"Here," Doug swiped a whole load of books off the desk. Carter lay the child flat on the desktop and looked at her.
"Now what?"
"Now you gotta take that suit off, dumbass."
"Are you sure? Should we be doing this? I mean, she's a girl..."
"Oh for fuck's sake, Carter." Doug pushed him out of the way and pulled the buttons open on the suit, taking the whole thing off. "There. Now YOU have to get that thing off her." He pointed at the diaper.
"Okay. Uhm." Carter studied it. "I think, if we just..." he pulled at the sticky tabs and the diaper fell open.
"EEEW."
"Oh man. Oh, fuck me that's bad. Wheee-eeew."
"Yeugh, ugh ugh. How can something so small..."
"We shouldn't have fed her, I think it went straight through..."
"Oh my god, how am I gonna..." Carter reached for the very edge of the diaper and pulled it hard, freeing it so it dangled in the air. "Oh oh oh...quick, the trash, the trash."
Doug ran to the kitchen and held the trash can lid open, turning his head away with disgust as Carter dropped the offending item in. Meanwhile, the crying had stopped, and the naked baby gazed at the stains on the ceiling in wonder.
"Oh this is the grossest thing ever."
"Yeah, look, we gotta clean her or something, ugh."
"Can't we just put another one on?"
"No, no I really think we should..."
"Okay okay, pass the cotton or something."
"Here." Cotton balls flew everywhere for a moment.
"Oh gross. Ick, it's sticking, oh eew."
"Urgh. Here, throw it in here." Doug held out an empty plastic bag.
"I need more cotton, it's not working, it's all kinda..."
"Try a wet wipe..."
"That's kinda better, oh god I think I'm gonna hurl."
"We need air freshner."
"Where did Mark go?"
"Somewhere to study, WATCH WHERE YOU'RE PUTTING THAT WIPE!"
"Sorry, eew."
"Ugh. Maybe we should put her in the bath or something."
"Isn't she a bit small?"
"Well, if we put a box in it or something."
"We could use the sink."
"Yeah, okay."
"I'll go put some water in it."
"Not too hot, okay?"
"Duh, Carter."
Doug ran to the bathroom and opened the faucets and squirting a little liquid soap into the growing pool of water. He could hear shouting coming from the lounge.
"Doug, she's peeing everywhere! Help!"
"Put a diaper on her!"
"I can't, they're too big, ohhh no, it's all over one of Mark's books!"
"Quick, get her in here then! She can pee in the sink and it'll just go down the drain!"
"It doesn't matter." Carter stood in the doorway, holding her. "I think she's done now." The baby gurgled.
"Well, she can have a bath anyway. Here, it's only a bit warm."
Carter dipped her into the water slowly, sitting her down.
"Hold the head up, Carter."
"I am, I am. What do we wash her with?"
"I dunno, I think normal soap is okay."
"Okay then."
Doug dipped a washcloth in the water and squeezed it above one shoulder so the water ran down the baby's torso. After a few more minutes, feeling a bit more comfortable, Doug asked, "So, what are you going to call her?"
"Huh?"
"A name, whatcha think she should be called?"
"Oh, I don't know. I haven't really had much of a chance to think about it..."
"Well we can't keep calling her 'her'."
"How about Chloe?"
"Don't ask me, Carter, she's your daughter."
Carter blinked for a moment, letting the realisation sink in. "Yeah."
"Okay, Chloe it is. So, Chloe. You think it's time to sleep now? 'Cause I think it's time you slept. That way you can't make any noise. What dya think? Deal?" He shook the finger that the small fist was curled around. "Alright!" Delighted for a moment at this breakthrough, he looked up at Carter. "She can sleep in that crib carrying thing."
"Yeah..."
"In your room."
"In my room? But what if she wakes up?" The panicky expression returned to Carter's face, as the newly-christened Chloe splashed water all down his pants.
"Then, buddy, she's your problem. Am I right, kid? Yeah, I'm right. Here, dump her in this towel, it's Mark's."
"Okay..." Carter eased the baby out of the washbasin and into the opened towel that Doug held. Once wrapped, Doug handed her back again and wiped his hands down the sides of his sweat pants. "Now. I gotta go find my book and write the exam answers somewhere the professor won't look." He left the bathroom. Carter watched him go, his daughter in his arms, a small hand reaching upwards. "Okay. Okay. We're okay. Hmm? We're alright. This is all just...yeah." He sat down on the rim of the bathtub. "Chloe. I think that's a good name. You think so? Uh huh. Okay. We'll be okay. So...I don't suppose you sleep really long hours?"
Author: Triggersaurus
Website: http://www.geocities.com/er_trig/triggersfics.html
Rating: There's bad words. If you don't wanna read 'em, cover your eyes!
Summary: While at college, Carter has to share a flat with Doug Ross and Mark Greene when he fails to get a dorm place. Then a package turns up on their doorstep and suddenly they all have a small, pink problem.
Notes: Yeah, consider it a weird crossover with cheesy 80's movie "3 Men and a Baby".
================
The books lay all over the floor, the coffee table, and most of the desk that Mark sat at. He squinted hard at the tiny lines of text in front of him, trying to glean some information to add to his notes before him. Unfortunately, it was the fifth time he had read the same sentence and no matter how hard he concentrated, the thumping of headboard against wall and the loud moaning kept interrupting. Here he was, trying to study for an important bio-chem test, and all Doug could do in preparation was hump like a wild animal. Mark rubbed his head again as the girl screamed. He was beginning to think he could feel a bald spot coming on from where he massaged. That was Doug's fault too, all those damn women. Why did he have to pick screamers? He looked back down at his textbook again and sighed.
On the other side of the apartment, the front door clicked open and college freshman John Carter came in, shutting the door behind him and hanging the smart duffell coat on the hook next to Mark's zip-up tracksuit top and Doug's leather jacket.
"Hey." He nodded in Mark's direction. "Want a coffee or anything? I went shopping." He dumped two enormous plastic bags on the kitchen counter and crashed about looking for a clean spoon.
"No thanks, Carter. Do you have any idea what caffeine does to your metabolism?"
"Not yet. Give me a few years."
"Wanna know now? Bio-chem test tomorrow, 9am."
"Uhm." Carter looked towards the paper-thin wall that seemed to be moving with each progressivly harder thump from the other side. "Is that Doug?"
"And friend."
"Oh. Uhm." He turned away, a little embarrassed, and poured hot water over the coffee beans. At that moment, Doug's friend let forth another scream, and Carter jumped, hot water flying in all directions but particularly, it seemed, onto Mark's desk, notes, hands and lap.
"FOR FUCK'S SAKE, CARTER!" Mark yelled as he leapt from his seat, shaking the burning water from his hands.
"Sorry, sorry. Here...let me..." He tried to lean over the counter with a dishcloth to wipe the water from the desk and the pages of notes, but only succeeded in smudging the ink further and knocking over a bag full of tins on the counter.
"Carter, just leave it, okay? Leave it." Mark's jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth, and he readjusted his glasses, looking at the spoilt work.
"I'm really sorry..."
"Don't worry about it."
"Are you sure..."
"CARTER!"
The doorbell rang.
"I'll get it," Carter said quietly, walking out of the kitchen and across the living area, and tripped right over a training weight before he reached the door. Trying to smoothen his now crumpled and water-stained shirt down, he reached for the door handle and pulled at it hard, accustomed to the fact that it stuck. By the time he opened the door, whoever had rung the bell had gone. Sticking his head out, he peered around the doorframe to the left and then the right. No-one. 'Probably some other students with nothing else better to do,' he thought, and swung the door to close again. Except it had stuck over something on the floor and wouldn't shut properly. Yanking it open again, ready to press down uplifted carpet, Carter looked straight down into the blue eyes of a baby wearing a pink all-in-one suit and a white bonnet.
"Uhm..." he said, looking frantically back towards Mark. Mark, however, was clearing the desk and trying to rescue his notes, and paying no attention to Carter at all. Carter's eyes flicked back to the carry-crib. Being careful not to touch the form in it, he reached hesitantly down for the slip of folded notepaper that was stuck to one side. He read it once, and then again just to check he hadn't imagined the whole thing.
"Carter, what the hell are you doing?" Doug leant against the doorframe of his room, arms folded over his bare chest.
"I..uh.."
"Banging the door about ruins a guy's concentration ya know."
"Uhm."
"Whatcha got there anyway?"
"It's...I think it's a baby."
"A what?!" Mark said, from the kitchen.
Doug walked over to the door, pulling up the waistband of his boxer shorts a little. He moved past Carter to the crib and looked down at it.
"What do you mean, you 'think' it's a baby, Carter? Obviously it IS a baby."
"I know."
"Let me see." Mark pushed past and craned his neck over Doug's shoulder. "Oh man."
"What are we gonna do?"
"Turn it in to the police or something."
"No, uhh...I think," Carter swallowed, holding the notepaper, "I think it might be mine."
The others turned to face him.
"Yours?" They moved towards him, as he started to step backwards.
"I, last year, I had a girlfriend and we, you know, we did-"
"Yeah yeah, we get the message."
"Uh, and anyway, we broke up and-" he slipped on a book, and wobbled trying to regain his balance. "She went away somewhere and I tried calling her but she was never in and her parents had a big argument with my family and stopped talking, and..."
"You made this girl pregnant and now she's dumped the kid on our doorstep?"
"Uhm. Yes. Yes, I think so."
Suddenly, a loud wail filled the air, followed by the sound of a sharp intake of breath before another loud, almost primal, scream shattered the panicked silence. The three guys stood in the centre of their apartment and looked at each other in horror, Carter reaching for his ears first, shortly followed by Mark and then Doug.
"CARTER! Do something about it!" Mark yelled over the noise.
"Me?"
"Yeah, it's your kid!" Doug winced.
"But, but. I don't know what to do!"
"Do anything!"
"Like what?!"
"I don't know!" Mark looked at him in exasperation.
"Put a sock in its mouth!"
"I can't do that, it'll choke!"
"Kidding, Carter, kidding."
"Pick it up!"
"I don't wanna pick it up! You pick it up!"
"I'm not picking it up!"
"Pick it up!"
"NO!"
"We need a pacifier or something!"
"Well we DON'T HAVE ONE!"
"Doug...?" A blonde head appeared around the door of Doug's room and took in the scene of the three guys yelling at each other. Looking towards the source of the catawaling, she crept over to the baby, wearing a large baseball shirt. Gently she prised the squirming infant from its crib and held it delicatley in her arms, the head resting on her shoulder, the cries coming to a gradual halt. Stunned by the peace, Mark, Doug and Carter stopped yelling and turned around.
"Oh, aren't you the cutest little thing ever? Aren't you? Hmm?"
After a few moments, Doug took a step towards her.
"Christy?"
"Mmm?"
Mark and Carter breathed a sigh of relief - Doug was probably gonna convince her to stay and help them figure out this mess.
"I thought you said I was the cutest thing ever a few minutes ago?" He grinned broadly at her, his head ticked to one side.
Carter groaned under his breath and Mark stomped over to the couple.
"Look, are you gonna stay and help us with this baby?"
Christy frowned.
"No, I'm not some slave! Who the hell are you anyway?" She looked him up and down angrily.
"He's just-"
"And how come you're going bald, what are you, 60?"
Mark's mouth closed into a very straight line for a few seconds. "Okay, that's it, get out of here."
"Mark! Don't!"
"Sorry, Doug. You'll just have to call up Emily, or Kelly, or Samantha or any of the other girls that have been here over the past week."
"Christy! Wait!" But it was too late. Shoving the baby into Doug's arms, she stormed out stopped only momentarily to grab her purse from the floor by the door. The door slammed shut behind her.
"Well thanks a lot, Mark! What the fuck did you have to do that for?"
"Shut up, Doug."
"No, no I won't shut up-" But he did indeed shut up, as a series of even more violent screams and wails let fly from the lungs of the tiny individual he held. So shocked was he that he almost dropped the baby, looking down at it in surprise as if he had forgotten he was holding her. Carter, standing as far away as possible from the previous angry scene, looked in horror at Doug. Mark winced and rubbed his ever increasing bald spot.
"Uhhh..." Doug slipped his arms about and held the child out at arm's length, as far away from his ears as possible. Taking small steps, jiggling the infant he walked towards Mark, who backed off quickly leaving the path free to Carter. It took a few moments for it to sink in where Doug was headed, but when Carter finally realised, he made a dash around the old armchair to the door where he stopped briefly with his hand on the doorknob.
"I have to, uh...I need more shopping! I'll be back later." And he was gone.
"CARTER! Shit. Mark..."
"No, no no no. I have a biochem test tomorrow. So do you. But, unlike you, I happen to care about passing it. Therefore, I will be at Murphy's, with my notes. Have fun, see you later." And then he was gone too, leaving only Doug and the baby.
When Carter returned, clutching yet more bags of shopping, he was greeted by a scene of total destruction. The apartment seemed to have tipped itself over and then stood up again just as he came through the door. Books, a basketball, three socks, two pennants, a banana, a six pack of beer, pencils, pens, even a plant all lay on the floor. One of the coffee tables was upside down. There was a strange smell coming from the couch. On an armchair was the crib, and in it the baby. Still screaming. In front of the chair on the floor was Doug, waving a pack of noodles in one hand and shaking a cheerleader's pom-pom in the other, mouthing words that couldn't be heard clearly above the crying. He'd managed to get some pants on, but seemed to have somehow burnt a hole in one of the legs. His face must have developed at least twenty wrinkles since Carter had left, and when he noticed his roommate was back, he picked up the crib, holding it away from him and rushed towards Carter.
"Thank God you're back, where have you been? She's stinking out our apartment, please tell me you got baby stuff in that bag because I don't know what the hell we're gonna do otherwise. What do you even buy for babies anyway?"
"I...I got some of everything. I didn't know, I mean, there was so much stuff and I don't know how old it is, I mean how old SHE is. And the diapers were all different makes so I had to get loads of those too..."
"Okay, okay. Here, hold her. Lemme see whatcha got." He handed the crib over and tipped out one of the bags. Small jars of baby food ran in all directions.
"Ya think she's hungry? Maybe that's why she's crying. Maybe if we give her some of this she'll shut up." He eyed a jar. "Chicken and gravy," he read aloud from the side. "Looks more like something someone threw up, but whatever you say." He pulled at the lid until it popped open. "Okay, Carter. Put it down on the chair. Did you get a spoon or something?"
"No...here, use one of ours." He passed a small teaspoon from a drawer.
"Okay. Okay. Here goes." Doug dipped the spoon in a pointed it towards the baby, eventually dropping it into the open mouth, tensed for silence to happen. The baby girl closed her mouth for a moment to contemplate the contents, swallowed a bit, then started crying again, the food dribbling down her chin.
"Oh no no noooo. Please shut up, please?" Doug put the jar down on the carpet and rubbed his eyes. "Carter, you try it. Maybe you'll have some biological link or something." He got up and shuffled out of the way as Carter nervously took up the firing position. Putting some more of the soft substance onto the spoon he leaned forward and pushed it into the screaming orifice. Nothing happened, and more fell out onto the pink suit the baby was wearing.
"It's not working, Doug! She's not eating it!"
"Well I don't KNOW Carter, if the kid doesn't want to eat then she's not gonna! Why else do babies make noise?"
Carter's eyes grew wider as his look flew to the several cartons of diapers on the kitchen table.
"Oh no! Doug, you have to help me, please. Please?"
"Your kid, Carter."
"DOUG! C'mon! Just this one time, please? I thought you wanted to be a pediatrician!"
"Pediatricians don't change diapers." Doug grumbled, wandering back into the room, and passing the first box of diapers to Carter, who was struggling to lift the baby out of the crib. Having successfully removed her, and holding her at arm's length, he looked around.
"Where can we do this?"
"Here," Doug swiped a whole load of books off the desk. Carter lay the child flat on the desktop and looked at her.
"Now what?"
"Now you gotta take that suit off, dumbass."
"Are you sure? Should we be doing this? I mean, she's a girl..."
"Oh for fuck's sake, Carter." Doug pushed him out of the way and pulled the buttons open on the suit, taking the whole thing off. "There. Now YOU have to get that thing off her." He pointed at the diaper.
"Okay. Uhm." Carter studied it. "I think, if we just..." he pulled at the sticky tabs and the diaper fell open.
"EEEW."
"Oh man. Oh, fuck me that's bad. Wheee-eeew."
"Yeugh, ugh ugh. How can something so small..."
"We shouldn't have fed her, I think it went straight through..."
"Oh my god, how am I gonna..." Carter reached for the very edge of the diaper and pulled it hard, freeing it so it dangled in the air. "Oh oh oh...quick, the trash, the trash."
Doug ran to the kitchen and held the trash can lid open, turning his head away with disgust as Carter dropped the offending item in. Meanwhile, the crying had stopped, and the naked baby gazed at the stains on the ceiling in wonder.
"Oh this is the grossest thing ever."
"Yeah, look, we gotta clean her or something, ugh."
"Can't we just put another one on?"
"No, no I really think we should..."
"Okay okay, pass the cotton or something."
"Here." Cotton balls flew everywhere for a moment.
"Oh gross. Ick, it's sticking, oh eew."
"Urgh. Here, throw it in here." Doug held out an empty plastic bag.
"I need more cotton, it's not working, it's all kinda..."
"Try a wet wipe..."
"That's kinda better, oh god I think I'm gonna hurl."
"We need air freshner."
"Where did Mark go?"
"Somewhere to study, WATCH WHERE YOU'RE PUTTING THAT WIPE!"
"Sorry, eew."
"Ugh. Maybe we should put her in the bath or something."
"Isn't she a bit small?"
"Well, if we put a box in it or something."
"We could use the sink."
"Yeah, okay."
"I'll go put some water in it."
"Not too hot, okay?"
"Duh, Carter."
Doug ran to the bathroom and opened the faucets and squirting a little liquid soap into the growing pool of water. He could hear shouting coming from the lounge.
"Doug, she's peeing everywhere! Help!"
"Put a diaper on her!"
"I can't, they're too big, ohhh no, it's all over one of Mark's books!"
"Quick, get her in here then! She can pee in the sink and it'll just go down the drain!"
"It doesn't matter." Carter stood in the doorway, holding her. "I think she's done now." The baby gurgled.
"Well, she can have a bath anyway. Here, it's only a bit warm."
Carter dipped her into the water slowly, sitting her down.
"Hold the head up, Carter."
"I am, I am. What do we wash her with?"
"I dunno, I think normal soap is okay."
"Okay then."
Doug dipped a washcloth in the water and squeezed it above one shoulder so the water ran down the baby's torso. After a few more minutes, feeling a bit more comfortable, Doug asked, "So, what are you going to call her?"
"Huh?"
"A name, whatcha think she should be called?"
"Oh, I don't know. I haven't really had much of a chance to think about it..."
"Well we can't keep calling her 'her'."
"How about Chloe?"
"Don't ask me, Carter, she's your daughter."
Carter blinked for a moment, letting the realisation sink in. "Yeah."
"Okay, Chloe it is. So, Chloe. You think it's time to sleep now? 'Cause I think it's time you slept. That way you can't make any noise. What dya think? Deal?" He shook the finger that the small fist was curled around. "Alright!" Delighted for a moment at this breakthrough, he looked up at Carter. "She can sleep in that crib carrying thing."
"Yeah..."
"In your room."
"In my room? But what if she wakes up?" The panicky expression returned to Carter's face, as the newly-christened Chloe splashed water all down his pants.
"Then, buddy, she's your problem. Am I right, kid? Yeah, I'm right. Here, dump her in this towel, it's Mark's."
"Okay..." Carter eased the baby out of the washbasin and into the opened towel that Doug held. Once wrapped, Doug handed her back again and wiped his hands down the sides of his sweat pants. "Now. I gotta go find my book and write the exam answers somewhere the professor won't look." He left the bathroom. Carter watched him go, his daughter in his arms, a small hand reaching upwards. "Okay. Okay. We're okay. Hmm? We're alright. This is all just...yeah." He sat down on the rim of the bathtub. "Chloe. I think that's a good name. You think so? Uh huh. Okay. We'll be okay. So...I don't suppose you sleep really long hours?"