For once, it was actually a pleasant morning in the bustling metropolis of London. Rising in the eastern sky, the sun's light filtered through the buildings onto the streets, illuminating the once shadowy corners and alleys, warming everything it touched. Traffic was light, though one characteristic black taxicab could be seen traveling through the streets, its driver looking for one more passenger before the end of his shift.

The cabbie was a white middle-aged male, who wore a plain brown t-shirt and blue track pants. He had demonstrative thick, black eyebrows and colorful tattoos peeking out from beneath his shirtsleeves. A gray Italian flat cap adorned his bald head, creating an altogether puzzling look. The cap was a gift from his only daughter, and he wore it religiously to keep her in his memory throughout the day. The man, known as Archie Callum, genuinely loved his job. Driving a cab meant that he interacted with all sorts of people throughout the day and he loved getting to know people's stories as they passed through his cab, even if he didn't make all that much money.

When the cab passed through Primrose Hill, Archie saw a man flag him down in front of an apartment complex. He pulled to the side of the road and noticed the man had some luggage with him, so Archie gladly got out to assist. The man had a baby girl strapped to his chest; an overstuffed nappies bag slung over one arm, a large military kitbag resting on the sidewalk, and a full rucksack on his back. Archie could tell by the bags and the way the man carried himself that he was a former Army man, but by the looks of things, he was leaving his current flat. He wondered what circumstances were making him leave and where the mother of the little girl was.

"Good morning, mate!" Archie greeted the man cheerily. He would've shook the man's hand, too, however, it appeared that he was doing a delicate balancing act to carry all the bags. Archie put out his hands to grab whatever he could to take the burden off of the man.

"Good morning." The man responded, passing off the nappies bag.

Archie placed the bag in the back of the cab before retrieving the kit bag. The little girl started fussing a bit, and the man bounced on his knees, rubbing her back and calmly comforting her.

"Beautiful baby you got there." Archie said, smiling and cooing at the girl as he helped the man get the rucksack off his back and into the cab.

"Thank you. Yeah, she's my daughter, Rosie." A proud grin grew on the man's face.

The two men were climbing in the cab now, situating themselves and buckling seatbelts.

"I remember when my little girl was that small. Time flies, it does." Archie reminisced for a moment as he started his car. He looked in the rear view mirror and saw by the man's expression that he shared his sentiment.

"So." Archie supplied, pulling the man from his thoughts, "Where am I taking you and little miss Rosie to this morning?"

"Right, erm, 221 Baker Street, please."

Archie took towards Baker Street, mapping out the route in his head. It certainly wouldn't be a long trip by any stretch of the imagination, perhaps only 10 or 15 minutes at most, as he had to travel around Regent's Park. Rosie started fussing again a few moments after the car started moving, but the man seemed to be struggling to console her.

"…Sorry…" the man mumbled to Archie as he changed tactics and tried to amuse the little girl by making faces rather than comforting her. The change calmed the girl momentarily.

Archie chuckled, "No need to apologize!" He hesitated asking the man the next question and struggled to phrase it. He got the impression that the man was unaccustomed to fatherhood, perhaps recently becoming a single father himself? He noticed that the man wasn't wearing a wedding band… "So, you moving to a new flat, then?" asked Archie, trying to think of how to get the man to tell him more about himself. He realized that he was being nosy, but couldn't resist his curiosity.

"Erm, yeah. Moving in with a friend."

"Oh! I see." He chuckled, thinking that the word 'friend' definitely meant more than just 'friend. His chuckle must have revealed his thoughts.

"Um, no. It's not like that. He's my best friend and he's going to help me out with Rosie since her mother…" he took in a breath of air, and Archie glanced back in the rearview mirror to see him flex his hand. "Passed away."

"Oi. I'm sorry, mate. That's a rough card to be dealt, no question. My wife passed away when my Katie was only 6 years old. Cancer. That was 10 years ago. Now she's practically grown up. I should've done what you're doing - reaching out, getting help. I didn't know what I was doing half the time."

John sympathetically smiled. "Thanks. Sorry about your wife… Yeah, sometimes I don't know what I'm doing. I just don't want to let her down."

Archie was just making the turn onto Baker Street.

"Listen, it may not be my place to say this… but… There's no such thing as a perfect parent. Rosie? She's already lost one parent. Don't make her lose another. Be there for her, and you won't be letting her down." He pulled in front of 221 B Baker Street and put the car into park. He looked into the rearview mirror to see the man's brows furrowed together as he mulled over the words Archie shared. A brief moment of silence passed.

"Thank you." The man said quietly. "Thank you…"

Archie gave him an empathetic smile.

"Let's get your bags, yeah?" Archie asked, breaking the silence. It was about 6:50 in the morning now, and traffic was starting to pick up a bit. Archie got out of his cab and walked to the back getting out the rucksack and kit bag and placing them on the sidewalk. The man and Rosie got out and the man grabbed the nappies bag.

It seemed that he suddenly realized he had yet to pay the cabbie and started reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.

"No charge." Said Archie.

"What?" the man asked, unbelieving.

"I said, no charge. You and Rosie go and have a nice day, all right mate? And good luck."

Archie turned and briskly got into the driver's seat of his cab before the man could insist on paying him. It wasn't often that he did that, but he felt it was the least he could do for a man who had suffered a loss so similar to the loss he suffered when he lost his wife. Seeing that man reminded him of himself after his wife passed. A bit clueless, worried, afraid of failing… As he drove off, he secured his cap just a little more snugly on his head and decided he was going to take his daughter out for breakfast that morning. Even though she was practically grown, he thought, he wanted her to know that he still cared for her deeply and that he was going to be there for her for as long as he lived.