Author's Note: This is just a short one shot that I thought of randomly. I think it's pretty cute. I didn't know what Brooke's last name was, so I just made one up. It's pretty fast paced but oh well. Enjoy!

Love,

Angie

Kelso knew that Brooke was pregnant. He watched the gradual transformation of the three trimesters right before his eyes. It surprised him that even through the puking, the mood swings, the check ups, and the fatness, he still wanted to be with Brooke. She had to be the one.

However, he didn't actually 'know' she was pregnant. He couldn't grasp the fact that he was going to be a father. There was a child, his child, inside of Brooke and he would have all of these responsibilities. It was absolutely impossible for him to take care of himself; how could he take care of a baby?

Kelso stared at Brooke's pained face as the doctors coached her. Her hand was clammy in his and his fingers had gone numb a long time ago. Her hair was drenched from sweat and plastered to her glistening forehead. 'How could someone so sweaty and in pain look so damn beautiful?' Kelso thought as his lips curled an uncertain smile. Was this it? Was she the one he was going to spend the rest of his life with? If he could be here for the birth of their child, they could do anything together.

Suddenly a loud wail echoed in the freezing delivery room. He tilted his head while gazing at Brooke, whose mouth was only parted slightly as she panted heavily. She didn't make that noise.

"Mr. Kelso, Ms. Danes, congratulations on your healthy baby girl." A baby girl. He had a baby girl. He grinned wildly and gazed happily at Brooke, who wore a tired smile as well. His face fell as Kelso caught her eyes; as tired as they were they shone with such emotion. Was it love? He squeezed her hand and felt her fingers twitch between his and he sighed contentedly. "What is her name?" The doctor asked.

"Betsy," Brooke mumbled sleepily, eyes fighting to stay awake. "Michael, where is she?" Kelso's head wildly spun across the room and his eyes practically bugged at the baby receiving a baby. That was his little girl. His Betsy. No, their Betsy.
"Shh," he whispered, index finger caressing the top of her hand. She sighed softly and leaned her head back against the pillow.

After recording the birth information and bathing Betsy, a nurse brought over the small girl wrapped in a fuzzy pink blanket. Kelso's stomach twisted nervously as he caught sight of the beautiful, tiny face in the blanket. Brooke's arms reached out and cradled Betsy to her chest, he watched as her face lit up with such awe and happiness.

"Oh Michael," Brooke cooed, holding Betsy close to her. "Isn't she perfect?" She gazed up at him lovingly and he took a deep breath and nodded.

"Yeah... she really is." Kelso replied, now sitting on a chair placed closely to the bed.

"Do you want to hold her?" Brooke asked softly, Kelso gulped.

"Uh..." Brooke smiled lazily and he nervously reached out his hands to hold his daughter.

"It's easy, just support her head, you'll know what to do," Brooke murmured, Kelso's hands were shaking as he cautiously held Betsy. As he rocked the infant in his arms, he felt his shoulders relax and he smiled; this wasn't so bad.

He could just imagine life with Betsy and Brooke. They could get a small house in Chicago so Brooke could be close to her mom yet they could be together. He could get a job as a police officer and she stay home with the baby until she was ready to go back to work. Then Betsy would grow into a toddler and run around like crazy and he'd buy her all sorts of toys and a swing set and everything would be pink and purple. When she'd start school she'd be smart because of Brooke and would probably already know how to read and to add and subtract. Then when she got older he'd have to scare off boys because he'd have both of her parents good looks so she'd pretty much be the most beautiful girl in the city. Or the state. Or the country. She would always be his little girl and he would love her no matter what.

It was hard to believe that such a tiny little person could make him feel so alive and happy.

"Michael," he blinked and turned to Brooke who was wearing a broad smile. "You're crying." He shrugged his shoulders and laughed softly as he gently rocked Betsy in his arms.

"I'm just happy, Brooke," he mumbled, turning to the woman who made all of his happiness. She grinned and lightly caressed his arm, her eyes appeared tired. "I've got the two most beautiful girls in the world."