Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own little creation.

Lying in bed Charlie Harper waited for the inevitable, as he had for the past four months.

His life had been changed forever a year ago to this day. His first suspicions of anything being out of the ordinary had been when Rose had walked up the stairs to his balcony instead of climbing over his rail as was the norm.

He'd been sitting on his chaise with a beer looking out at the sunset when his stalker/neighbour made her arrival. Initially he'd ignored it – being so used to her sudden and unexpected arrivals – but his head had spun around to her form when he realised that she'd taken the stairs. 'Rose?' he'd asked warily. 'You okay?'

'I'm pregnant.'

He'd laughed at that. 'Good one Rose.'

But when her expression hadn't changed and the joke hadn't come to light, his jaw dropped. He couldn't think, couldn't react and couldn't do anything as Rose took advantage of his shock and slipped onto the chaise, laying back against him as she physically pulled his arm around her and looked out. 'We're going into the sunset for a whole new future together,' she sighed. She'd then pulled his hand down to her stomach. 'You, me and baby Harper.' He could remember pulling his hand off her and flying up from the chaise as if she'd burnt him. 'What?!'

He'd gotten used to the idea pretty quickly.

Raising his arms and folding them behind his head, Charlie allowed his mind to slip back over the events of the past year.

When Rose had bounded into his kitchen one morning not long after she'd shared the 'joyous' news with him and declared to Alan that she was pregnant, he'd spat his coffee out so fast that Alan had ended up with a few drops on him. That had stopped his brother's laughter pretty quick, but his questions had started up soon after. 'And let me guess, the baby's Charlie's?' he said sarcastically.

Rose had squealed and ran around to hug him from the back – another sip of coffee was wasted – as she declared 'Yes!'

Alan had looked disbelievingly at him. 'Charlie?'

All he could do was shrug his shoulders with a sheepish look as Alan's disbelief turned to laughter. 'Oh this is brilliant.'

'What's so brilliant about it?' he retorted.

'You my dear brother are about to take on a whole new set of responsibilities.'

'It's a baby Alan. All it needs is a boob, a nappy and a bed.' His brother had had the audacity to shake his head and brush away his opinion. 'That's the easy part – wait 'til you have to raise them!'

There was no time to respond to that as he'd had to worry about Rose's hands dipping into his shirt, and the doorbell had rang announcing the arrival of Judith dropping off Jake.

Judith had just rolled her eyes at the announcement of Charlie having a kid and left, whilst Jake took it in his stride. 'I get a cousin. Cool.'

When his mother had found out that she was going to be a grandmother for the second time, Evelyn had pinned her eyes on him and exclaimed in her usual dramatic fashion 'Which poor girl did you knock up?'

He'd had gall enough to look affronted before he mentioned it was Rose to his mother's delight. 'Oh, I like Rose. She's a welcome addition to the family – unlike some.'

What was he supposed to say to that?

Rose had agreed that he could continue being Charlie Harper – Bachelor Extraordinaire. Well, truth be told she'd just fixed him with her beady eye and nodded mysteriously when he'd told her he was going to do just that, and as the weeks went by, he'd realised that Rose was doing her very best to sabotage his chances with any girls. 'Rose, the mother of Charlie Harper's unborn child here' as she answered his phone was her favourite tactic. That and miraculously appearing to answer his door before he could get there with a grand announcement of 'O father of my child, you have a visitor'.

Whenever he'd had girls over, Rose would be out on the deck, ever ready with a comment about her pregnancy and the father of her child. And if there was ever anything to scare off potential one night standees – it was an unwanted pregnancy.

The revelation that he was going to have a kid meant he actually got lucky one night, but in the majority, most girls were out the door in a flash when they met Rose, or rather when Rose imposed an introduction upon them.

He remembered one occasion when he'd brought home a gorgeous blonde bombshell and she was leaning against his piano seductively when he left the kitchen with two martinis. He'd almost dropped the drinks when a five month pregnant Rose had thrown open the balcony door, walking furiously through the gap between him and his latest conquest as she stormed up the stairs and into his bedroom without a word.

He'd been left in quite a pickle as to how to explain who this woman was, why she was pregnant and why she was currently sleeping in his bed. Thankfully, his brains and balls hadn't deserted him and he was able to produce a sufficiently plausible explanation – not that the girl had taken much convincing – and they'd moved their 'party for two' to the couch.

He'd been looking to getting lucky until big heaving sobs, tears no doubt generating enough water to make their own waterfall, could be heard from upstairs. Ignoring it hadn't really been a possibility and even as he tried to increase his kissing in the hope that the noise would go away, it was only a matter of time before he'd had to usher his date out the door and head up the stairs.

As the pregnancy progressed, Rose had expected everything and anything from him at the drop of a hat: the 5am phone calls for ice cream and tofu, the feet and neck massages and the other dozens of odd requests. His excuses or attempts to get out of it had fallen on deaf ears and a threat to get the handcuffs. The latter was her favourite threat: threatening to cuff them together until she gave birth.

The bigger Rose became, the clingier she became. He remembered one 24 hours where she'd wrapped herself around him one morning when he'd turned with his coffee (another coffee gone to waste) and refused to let go.

When Berta arrived to do the cleaning, Rose had still been wrapped around him as he tried to walk into the lounge room. 'She's sticking to you better than some of those stains I find on your sheets,' his wise-ass housekeeper had retorted.

Rose had also given Jake a run for his money in clearing out their fridge. Alan had walked in one morning, and seeing the fridge door open had assumed that it was Jake rummaging around within. But his 'good morning Jake' had quickly morphed into a 'good morning Rose' and a question about why she was in Charlie's fridge. This was a question that was answered intelligibly with a full mouth and he'd been obliged to explain to his brother that apparently his juice tasted better than the juice in her fridge.

When Rose had entered the last month of her pregnancy, the whole Harper household was on tenterhooks. Anyone who had thought that the pre-pregnancy Rose had been a little imbalanced was in for a shock when they met the pregnant Rose. Any word that he's spoken was twisted and sent back at him. He could say and do nothing right.

He'd been so fed up at one point that he'd ordered her gone. 'Crawl back into the rabbithole you came from.'

Rose had stormed out the front door and he'd slammed the door with a 'good riddance' only to turn and find four pairs of eyes glaring at him. 'What?'

He couldn't remember what they'd said, but twenty minutes later he was the one knocking on Rose's door with an apology and a peace offering. He'd been expecting anger and tantrums, but all she'd done was throw himself into her arms – as much as her considerable girth allowed her at least – and he'd felt all the worse when she'd cried into his shoulder as he patted her back awkwardly.

When Rose had gone into labour, he'd been getting ever so close to getting some that night. Lying in bed with a woman, he'd pulled the ringing phone out of the wall before turning his attention back to the brunette in his bed. His attention giving was short-lived when his bedroom door flew open and Rose had stumbled in clutching her abdomen.

'Nuff said, his girl had been out the door in a flash, pyjama-clad Alan had slapped him on the back with a 'good luck' and he was driving Rose to the hospital in his Mercedes with a worry that her waters would break and damage his leather seats.

Nothing could have prepared him for the 26 hour labour that followed.

He was not allowed to leave her side, and as they neared the home stretch, he wondered who would be needing more medical attention. 'I always wanted your kid Charlie Harper,' Rose had gritted through her teeth as she squeezed his hand painfully hard, bones cracking. 'But I didn't think it would hurt this much.'

Sosie Amaryllis was born not long after: a little baby girl with a shock of brown hair.

He'd never fell hard for anyone as fast as he fell for his daughter. When that squalling bundle was placed in his arms, it was love at first sight.

Thanksgiving had been quite the occasion. Baby Sosie was only four days old and just home from the hospital, but as his family – invited or not – crowded around his table and cooed over his child, he'd never felt like a man of the house until that moment. That didn't mean that he had to enjoy it, though if he was honest with himself, it was a pretty cool feeling.

In the three months since the arrival of his sparkling lily, Charlie had found that he'd unexpectedly acquired two more house guests.

Whilst technically Rose still lived next door, the breastfeeding and care required for a newborn started to take its toll – little girl Harper having taken after her father and declared herself a night owl – and so Rose had started slipping over.

The first night she came over, her arrival in his bed hadn't even registered on his radar until a cry was heard some time later and he woke up to find himself holding Rose to his chest, his daughter crying in the cot nearby.

Slipping his arms under the tiny crying baby and lifting her out, he'd settled her into his arms and bounced her lightly. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, Sosie's cries had become whimpers as he took a careful seat on the end of his bed.

Rose had slept on oblivious until Sosie had snuffled at his chest, and not finding what she was looking for, released a loud scream. He wasn't a lot of help in that department, and so he'd stood up, baby cradled in his arms as he'd pushed at the side of the bed with his leg until Rose had blearily opened her eyes. It had been the most natural thing in the world to hand the baby to Rosie, switch on his bedside table lamp and roll back into his side of the bed, asleep once again.

He had to admit that having a newborn put a serious clincher on his night life and social callers. I mean, first of all, partying in three hour blocks just didn't work, and secondly, if he so deigned to bring someone home, then it was at the risk that another woman was going to slip into bed with him at some point. Oh yeah, and did he mention the little bub that would be coming over with that woman too?

Having a baby hadn't stopped Rosie's master plan at preventing all contact with girls. He'd had to race her to the door whenever someone rang the doorbell as she was more than willing to open the door, Sosie happily breastfeeding as she called for him.

She'd worn him down and after one girl had actually slapped him for inviting her over when he had a partner and child, Rose had far too much fun at his expense as she happily faced their daughter. 'Look Sosie, Daddy's becoming a one-woman, well two-female, man!'

Sosie was a night owl, and as new parents, they'd slowly but surely discovered that only two things would calm their daughter: music or her daddy's chest.

They'd discovered the latter one night when Sosie had been just short of four weeks old. She'd been fed, diapered and otherwise cared for, but wouldn't settle. Rose was falling asleep standing when she arrived at his bedroom. Pushing her into bed, he paced the room with the crying baby cradled in his arms.

Deciding that a trip downstairs might help, he'd yawned as he jostled Sosie in the cradle of his arms, making his way down the stairs. Entering the kitchen, he props his daughter up on his bare chest as he reached for the fridge looking for a drink. Holding her close as he grabs the desired object and closes the door, he'd realised that his daughter's cries had reduced to a whimper as she sniffles and burrows herself into his chest.

He didn't dare to move as his baby's eyes fluttered close. After a minute of nearly not breathing, he'd tilted his head to look down at the little bundle in his arms. He almost let out a whoop and a dance before he caught himself. His daughter was just down for the night – he didn't need her up again.

One night when Sosie was seven weeks old and all else had failed, he'd headed for the piano to start playing some random baby nonsense, and lo and behold, what would you know: music = happy baby. (Making music for his baby girl had also an unexpected side effect when he found himself suddenly able to access a whole other market professionally with writing jingles for baby products. Alan hadn't been too impressed at his continued good fortune.)

Sosie was now three months old and growing more and more each day. Just yesterday, she'd had been lying on her back, Jake lying on his back next to her as they both looked up at the lounge ceiling. He'd been keeping one eye on them as he worked at his piano, but the sound of his daughter's laugh for the first time had sounded better than any other sound he could have produced then.

He'd never thought he'd be the type of father (if ever!) that would celebrate each and every little insy, winsy milestone that his child (or god forbid, children) achieved - after all, they're tiny little beings that didn't know left from right - but he'd flown up from his seat and dashed over at this major event. Kneeling down, he'd used his best baby voice as he encouraged his baby girl to laugh again. After smiling coyly - and the genius that was her cousin had laughed for her - Sosie had laughed again.

He snapped back to the present as he shook his head. He now had a daughter - a daughter for chrissakes! (no doubt God's way of making fun of him) - and he swore that she wasn't leaving the house until she was 30, and that no man was going to come near her. Ever.

Yawning, he grows concerned when he notes the time. She was late, or maybe she wasn't coming tonight? It shocked him that Charlie Harper had gotten very used to the presence of a certain female and a certain little person in his bedroom.

Maybe she should just move in, make it easier on everyone, said a voice from the back of his head before hastily retreating. Where the hell did that come from?!

Next you'll be suggesting you make an honest woman out of her.

Argh!