Iris is (still) my own character - please don't use her without my permission.

On her mother's patio, Payson clutched a glass of wine in a shaking hand. Iris was having the time of her life on the wooden jungle gym Mark and his father had built for Payson and Becca when they were children, and now it was the thing Iris looked forward to most when visiting her grandparents' house. Musical laughter rang from across the garden as Mark lifted his granddaughter to the monkey bars he had carefully carved and constructed with his own father. Payson smiled tightly as Iris waved from the platform at the end of the bars, ready to slide down the long metal chute-slide, a new addition to the jungle gym.

Payson heard a car pull up outside the house and a door slam shut. Kim waved through the window. It's now or never, she sighed. Moments later, a familiar face filled her vision as the body attached to it was folded into the chair beside her, sparkling cider in hand. He looked every bit as serious as she remembered and every bit as wearied as she felt. Kim smiled encouragingly through the kitchen window as she returned to her lunch preparations and Payson took a small sip of her wine, hoping for a large dose of courage.

"Hi," she said, breaking the silence in a hoarse whisper. She had hoped to sound confident and carefree, content to be alone, but her voice reflected her heart.

"Hi," he repeated, eyes trained on her. He didn't seem to notice that they weren't alone in the garden and she wasn't quite ready to bring his attention to their company just yet. "Uh… how have you been?"

She swallowed hard. She could either break the news now or let him realise it himself – seeing him again after almost four years had stripped away all the courage that had built over the last week.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here," he continued, sensing she wasn't quite ready to respond. His rough voice became smoother with every word, as if gaining confidence. "Your mother said you lived across town now."

"We—uh, I—I've been doing okay," Payson stuttered. She dropped her gaze to the glass in her hand. She'd barely drunk a quarter of the liquid in it. She wasn't overly fond of wine – she'd never been a drinker – but her mother had pressed the glass into her hands the moment she had arrived, convinced it would help her to relax a little.

He glanced out to the garden after she lowered her eyes, for the first time noticing the laughter coming from the end of the lawn. He watched as Mark lifted Iris to the monkey bars again and walked her along beneath them, counting each one as she grabbed it with her tiny hands. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat and looked back at Payson, who watched him with fearful, glassy eyes.

"Ho—how old is she?" he asked, looking from the little girl, dressed in a lavender dress and blonde pigtails, to Payson, whose tears had spilled from her eyes and now streamed unimpeded down her face.

"She's yours, Sasha, if that's what you were wondering."

He let out a breath he hadn't know he was holding. "Why didn't you tell me?" He wasn't angry, he wasn't even disappointed. He was a lot confused, a little overjoyed and a small part of him had already fallen head over heels in love with the little girl he hadn't even met yet.

"You didn't want me," she whispered. Finally revealing her biggest secret had given Payson courage. She put her wine glass on the ground, tucked in behind the leg of her chair. "Why would you want her?"

"Payson…" Payson's words had been like a knife in Sasha's gut. He had regretted walking away the moment he had done it, but at the time it had felt like the right thing to do for both of them.

"Don't, Sasha, don't give me that bullshit about taking responsibility. You left me, you walked away, you didn't want me."

"I have always wanted you."

Payson scoffed.

"I have wanted you since you kissed me before Worlds trials, hell, I have wanted you since the moment you sassed me about parties and god damn it Payson I have loved you since the moment I walked into that bloody gym!" his voice rose a little and Mark looked over from the jungle gym. Iris was too busy swinging on the tire to notice the raised voices from the other end of the garden. Payson caught his eye and shook her head softly; she didn't need him to intervene – not yet, at least.

"Then why, Sasha?" Payson asked, voice broken.

"I'm ten years older than you, Payson—"

"And, what? Did you know my dad is almost eight years older than my mom? I don't care about age, Sasha." Payson knew she was bordering on petulance when she interrupted him but she had far too much residual anger to let out.

"—and I was your coach. It was wrong of me to betray that trust – your trust and the trust your parents had in me, not to mention the NGO—I could've lost my job, Payson, and it sure as hell would have ruined your career."

"Screw my career, Sasha, you know as well as I do that I retired that morning. You weren't my coach anymore. My career was over and you know it."

"I did it to protect you!" He insisted. Mark looked over again, taking a step towards his daughter. Iris was somewhere inside the slide and Mark was grateful she couldn't hear her parents arguing—the last thing she needed was to meet her father in the middle of an argument with her mother. He wished he could intervene and knock his daughter's head together with Sasha's—he had long since come to terms with the fact that his daughter and her coach had fallen in love with each other, he just wished they could both see that—and that they'd do something about it instead of making themselves and everyone around them miserable. When Payson shook her head again, he raised his hands and shoulders in a shrugging gesture before returning to Iris, who had reached the bottom of the slide. He convinced her to continue sliding, determined to protect her from her parents' dispute for as long as possible.

"I didn't need protection, Sasha," Payson spat. "I didn't then and I don't now. You were a coward, it's as simple as that."

Sasha looked at his hands, out of arguments. Just as he always had been, he had been defeated by pint-sized firecracker he had allowed himself—propriety be damned—to fall in love with.

"I guess I was wrong," he admitted feebly.

Payson scoffed. "Yeah, you were."

"Was I so wrong to love you?" Sasha's tone was pleading and broken and it took all of Payson's resolve to hold back tears.

"You were wrong to take everything and leave," Payson answered carefully. Sasha closed his eyes for a long moment.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I'd taken advantage of you, I thought you weren't interested, I thought you would just push me away so I left before you had the chance."

"I wouldn't have pushed you away." Payson looked up at the same time Sasha did and their eyes locked. Just like old times, they had no use for words as their eyes conveyed all that needed to be said. She reached for his hand and squeezed it, a teary-eyed smile gracing her features for the first time. She was even more beautiful than he remembered.

"Iris, come here, honey," she called, turning away and towards the garden. She scooped up the three-year-old mid-run and peppered her face with kisses to a giggling protest. "You remember how I said daddy went away for a little while?"

Iris looked at her mother and the strange man beside her with hopeful eyes and Payson's breath caught in her throat. She had long since memorised Sasha's face, but for the first time she noticed how much her daughter looked like him – it would take a fool not to notice his bone structure replicated in her daughter's tiny, delicate features. Iris nodded.

"Well, he came back for us, baby," she whispered, kissing the top of her little girl's head. Payson had always talked to Iris about her father but Iris had never so much as seen a photograph—and now he was sat in front of her, smiling as brightly as he could manage.

"Hi Iris," he spoke hoarsely, voice thick with emotion. Iris looked up at Payson, pale blue eyes wide and questioning. Payson nodded and Iris scrambled off her lap and clambered up onto Sasha's, nuzzling into his chest and surprising him with her strength. This was the moment Iris had been waiting for since she was old enough to understand the very first stories Payson told her about her father. Instinctively, Sasha wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head as Payson had just done. Payson watched with tears in her eyes; a small part of her wondered if she would ever run out of tears. His gaze locked with hers, eyes glassy, and he reached out a hand to her. She stood and turned, sitting gently opposite Iris on his other leg and resting her head atop his.

"Thank you," he murmured.

fin.

folks, thus endeth 'babyfic'. thanks for sticking with me - i tried, but longer pieces aren't my forte yet (and after 22 years of telling stories, i wonder if they ever will be). this chapter makes up almost half the entire story's word count and it always has done.