Dylan Arthur Shelby had entered the world a little over four weeks ago and already he was beloved by so many, but none so much as by his parents. Neither Saoirse nor Tommy could believe that they had been able to live their lives without knowing how it felt to love someone in the way they loved their son. They were enthralled and entranced by everything he did; every yawn, every burp, every gurgle was the most amazing thing to them both. In just a few weeks he had changed so much and every day he managed to look more and more like his father, if that was even possible. He was going to be a heartbreaker one day, especially with those ice blue orbs that seemed to look into the soul of whomever they stared at.

Tommy opened his eyes as the birds outside began their morning chorus. From the bassinet, the baby shifted about and even though she was half asleep, Saoirse's arm reached over to soothe him before he woke himself up. But Dylan didn't want to settle and instead had decided it was time to get up.

"You go back to sleep, love and I'll get him," Tommy kissed Saoirse's shoulder.

"That's sweet, Tom," she smiled. "But unless you've somehow started producing milk in the last few hours, I don't think you'll be very well received."

"Fair point," he conceded. "I can at least sit up with you though."

"You don't have to do that," she assured him. "You must be tired considering how much he had us awake in the night, and you sat up with me for every feed."

"I did," he nodded, smiling as Saoirse brought Dylan into the bed and began unbuttoning her nightgown.

Dylan, as though sensing he was ever closer to his next meal, began to fuss and whine, turning his head this way and that before suddenly clamping onto Saoirse's nipple when she guided it towards his mouth.

"He's got a voracious appetite, I'll give him that," Tommy smirked.

"Hmm," Saoirse smirked back, grimacing slightly at the discomfort she felt.

Polly was of the opinion that Dylan might be having some sort of growth spurt because he was feeding so often all day and night lately. Last night he had only woken every hour for a feed, but the night before it had been every fifteen minutes and Saoirse was about ready to cry if he had continued in that manner. And Tommy, God love him, was so attentive to her and the baby. If she was up feeding him, Tommy was sat up with her just offering encouragement or helping to keep her awake. She tried repeatedly to tell him that he needed his sleep because he was working every day and that it wasn't fair on him, but all he would do was kiss softly and remind her that they were a team and that he would rather be awake with her and Dylan whenever he had the chance.

"Did I tell you what happened to Ada yesterday?" Saoirse spoke.

"You told me she had an argument with Laura Meadows about who had picked up the last piece of green yarn first on the market stall," he answered, lighting up a cigarette.

"Oh so I didn't tell you the other thing?" Saoirse's eyes twinkled mischievously. "So, I went for a bath and Ada offered to watch Dylan for me. Anyway, Polly had gone to the shops and I had just finished washing my hair when I heard Ada screaming, and honestly I thought she was being murdered the way she was going on. So, I came running down as quickly as I could and when I got into the living room, Ada was screeching her head off and when I eventually got her to calm down, I realised that she had been changing Dylan napkin and he peed right in her mouth."

Tommy burst out into peals of laughter that actually made his sides aches. Saoirse giggled with him until she was red in the face.

"Oh, I'd have paid good money to see that," Tommy chuckled, running a hand across Dylan's soft head as he fell back asleep against his mother. "Who'd have thought someone so little could create so much chaos, eh?"

"Hmm," Saoirse smiled as Tommy's other hand caressed her face. His finger trailed across her lips and she pretended to bite him. "I love you."

"And I love you," he leaned forward to kiss her. "I love you both of you. I didn't realise what my life was missing until both of you were in it."

"You're such an old softie really, aren't you," Saoirse murmured against his mouth.

"Old?" Tommy pretended to frown.

"I still love you though," she winked playfully. "Let me put him down and then I can kiss you properly."

"Pass him to me and then you can kiss me properly, because otherwise if my hands are empty there's no way I'll be able to keep them off of you."

Tommy extinguished his cigarette and scooped Dylan up gently before Saoirse could even answer. He lay down slightly and rested his small son against his bare chest, right on top of his heart, before pulling Saoirse into to his side and wrapping his arm around us.

"Only a few more weeks and then you can have your wicked way with me again," Saoirse joked.

"It's a few weeks too many," Tommy sighed, but truthfully he didn't mind. Their relationship was more than that.

Saoirse, God love her, had offered to give him some release over the past few weeks but in a true exercise of restraint he had somehow resisted. He would hold out until she was healed and ready then he would worship every inch of her in praise of the child she had given him.

"I wish we could stay like this forever sometimes," Saoirse sighed contentedly. "Just me, you and Dylan; living in this little bubble where nothing can ever hurt us."

"Nothing can hurt us regardless of where we are," Tommy kissed her head. "I would never let anything or anyone hurt either of you. I'd die before that happened."

"I know," Saoirse nodded. "But I can't help but just think that I don't deserve to be this happy. There's part of me that always thinks something terrible will happen because it's just not in my destiny for everything to be alright."

"You've been through a lot, Saoirse," Tommy's arm around her squeezed gently. "You're bound to feel this way. But I promise you that there is nothing for you to worry about. Things are going great with business and the only thing I want you to be concerned about is looking after Dylan and looking after yourself."

"And looking after you," she smiled, kissing her chest and then Dylan's soft head.

"And looking after me," Tommy agreed.

….

"We should really get up," Saoirse mumbled.

The two of them must have drifted off again and Saoirse knew that as much as they wanted to, they couldn't laze the day away.

"Hmm," Tommy grunted, making no effort whatsoever to move.

He was comfortable and relaxed with not even the slightest bit of tension in any part of his body. He relished this feeling; wished he could bottle it and carry it with him everywhere.

"Tommy," Saoirse's fingers danced across his ribs making him let out a short laugh. "Come on lazy bones."

"Just a few more minutes," Tommy muttered. "Weren't you the one who said they wanted to live in this little bubble forever? And now you're desperate to escape."

"Yes but that was before I realised just how starving hungry I was," Saoirse admitted, her stomach choosing that exact moment to gurgle loudly as though proving the point.

"Well, I shouldn't like for you to waste away," Tommy sighed, sitting up and keeping a sleeping Dylan held tightly against his chest. "Let's get dressed and go down. If we're lucky there might still be something to eat for breakfast, and if not I'll rustle something up."

"Tommy Shelby offering to cook," Saoirse pulled a face at him. "Wonders will never cease."

"Do you hear this, chavo?" Tommy smiled down at his son. "Mummy's being mean to me. I don't think we can stand for that, can we?"

Dylan wriggled and did nothing more than let out a very loud gust of wind from his rear. Tommy pulled a face of mock disgust and realised that if Dylan was anything like he had been, he would most definitely be a mummy's boy, and therefore would always take Saoirse's side in everything. Not that Tommy minded really.

"You'll survive," Saoirse grinned, buttoning up the green dress she had slipped over her head before gathering up her auburn curls into a bun.

Her hair was finally growing out now and she loved being able to tie it up and keep it out of the way. She took the baby off of Tommy so he could get dressed and smiled when he opened his eyes and stared right at her.

"Hello beautiful boy," she cooed in a sing song voice. "Who's my best friend? You are, that's right. You're so handsome, aren't you? Oh my god Tommy, look! He's smiling. Tommy he's smiling."

Tommy was by her side in no time, his hands fastening his tie as he looked on eagerly.

"You missed it," Saoirse sighed. "I promise you he smiled."

"I believe you," he reassured her. "He's a clever boy, aren't you?"

This time, Tommy himself witnessed the little smile that spread across Dylan's face and he felt his own mouth curve upwards into a beaming grin.

"Polly'll probably say it's wind," Tommy said, stroking Dylan's chubby cheek. "But what does she know, eh?"

As if he understood exactly what was being said, Dylan broke out into another huge grin and sent his parents all cuckoo again.

Tommy's elated eyes met his wife's and he understood the subtle look she gave him. Things really had changed for the better.

….

"Tommy, don't let him get too close in case it bites him."

"He won't bite, will you boy?" Tommy crooned, rubbing the stallion's nose affectionately as he Dylan in his other arm.

At five weeks old, Tommy had decided that it was high time he brought the baby to Charlie's Yard to meet some of the four legged residents. Curly was beside himself with excitement but refrained from holding Dylan in case he dropped him on his head.

"You don't know that," Saoirse chewed her lip nervously. "I think I'd prefer if you brought Dylan away from the horse. He's too little to be near it; there could be an accident."

"Saoirse, I was riding horses before I could even walk," Tommy smiled at her. "He's a Shelby. Horses are in his blood and the sooner he gets used to them, the less nervous he'll ever be around them."

"Hmm," Saoirse made an unconvinced noise.

"Thought I heard my favourite nephew," Arthur appeared in the stable door with a grin.

"What about my two boys?" John scowled beside him.

"What about them? I love them and everything, but this little monster here is my best friend aren't you?" Arthur smirked, striding over to Tommy and taking Dylan out of his arms and completely ignoring the glare his brother gave him. "Tell your Dad to stop looking at me like that otherwise if the wind changes his face will be stuck like that."

Dylan gurgled in his Arthur's arms, his pudgy fist clenching tightly around his uncle's little finger.

"Well, he is a lot better behaved than mine, I'll give you that," John grinned. "And he's certainly a lot quieter."

"Not when he's screaming the house down in the middle of the night for food he's not," Arthur chuckled. "But we don't mind, do we? No, of course not because you're a handsome little chappy."

"Arthur, haven't you got actual work to be doing?" Tommy eyed him drolly. "Instead you're pissing around here, fawning over my son like some love sick puppy."

"Just came to ask Curly's help with something," Arthur explained, his eyes never leaving Dylan's face as he rocked him slightly from side to side. "But I couldn't resist the chance to see my favourite human when I heard Saoirse flapping about him being near the horse, could I?"

"See even Arthur thinks you were unnecessarily worrying," Tommy gave her a triumphant look.

"He didn't say that, Tommy," she pulled a face at him. "And I don't care if I am worrying unnecessarily. I'm a mum; it's my job."

"And you're a good mum," Arthur smiled at her. "He's lucky to have you."

"You know Arthur, sometimes I really think I married the wrong brother," Saoirse teased, taking Dylan from him when he started to fuss.

"Right, Arthur, John, go and get on with whatever it is you're meant to be doing," Tommy said abruptly. "Saoirse, stop flirting with Arthur and pass me the baby. I'm going for a little ride and he's coming with me."

"Over my dead body he is," Saoirse was horrified at the idea.

"That can be arranged," Tommy winked playfully.

With a sigh of resignation, she knew she wasn't going to win this argument.

….

The heat of the last few months had finally abated, leaving a pleasant warmth in its wake. Saoirse and Ada had enjoyed a stroll around the shops and when they got back to Watery Lane, Dylan was fast asleep in his pram.

"You're just in time for some lunch," Polly smiled, peeping her head out of the back door. "Is the little man asleep?"

"Yeah," Saoirse nodded, pulling up the pram hood to keep the sun off of her sleeping infant. "I'm going to leave him out here to enjoy the fresh air."

"We'll hear him if he starts crying," Polly smiled. "Just shut that back gate properly, Ada."

"Already done," Ada grinned, peering at Dylan with a fond smile as she walked past. "He's the spit of Tommy isn't he?"

"Absolutely," Saoirse agreed. "Although when he frowns he does occasionally look like my Dad."

"Do you feel sad that your parents aren't around to see him?" Ada asked. "I know that when I have kids one day it will hurt not having my mum here. Couldn't give a shit about my Dad but Mum; now she would have been an amazing Grandmother."

"From what Tommy's said of her I would agree. My parents would have doted on him too; my Dad especially. My mum was soft and sweet, but my Dad was even worse. As a child he could never discipline me; he used to let me get away with murder, and my mum would do all the telling off. They always wanted more kids but it just didn't happen for them."

"They're watching down on you and the little man," Polly said knowingly. "They all are. Now sit your bums down and let's eat before we all start crying."

Saoirse checked on Dylan after they had eaten and he was still fast asleep, gripping his blanketed teddy bear for dear life and pursing his lips just like his father. She, Ada and Polly decided to play a game of rummy to pass the time until he awoke.

They were so engrossed in the game that they didn't hear the back gate creak open as John stepped through it. It was only when he walked in through the back door that they realised they had company.

"You're back early," Polly commented. "Thought you had that meeting at the Garrison with Tommy and Arthur?"

"Yeah I do," John nodded, cramming a sandwich into his mouth. "But Arthur forgot the papers so I've come back to get them and thought I'd grab something to eat while I'm here."

"Well, if you go and find the papers, I'll make you a sandwich," Polly suggested.

"You're a legend, Polly, eh?" John grinned, wriggling the toothpick in his mouth with his tongue.

"Was Dylan still asleep when you came past?" Saoirse asked.

"I didn't see him," John frowned.

"Oh, he's asleep in the pram," Saoirse explained. "I thought you might have popped your head in when you walked past, but not to worry. I'll go and check that he's alright; he should be getting hungry soon."

"He's not in the pram," John frowned. "I did stick my head in but the pram was empty."

"What?" Saoirse stood abruptly, feeling like her heart had sunk to her toes.

She was out of the back door in a flash, followed closely on her heels by Polly, Ada and John. Saoirse wasn't aware of them though; all she could focus on was the fact that her son was gone. He was gone. Somebody screamed. Her? The sound was like an animal who had been wounded; it was raw.

She fell to her knees, clutching the tiny blue blanket teddy bear that was the only thing left behind of Dylan. Completely unaware of the panicked shouts and chaos going on around her, she brought the teddy to her nose with a shaking hand and breathed in that newborn scent of her beautiful boy.

She looked up when a gentle hand touched her shoulder and her face crumbled when she saw Tommy stood there. She didn't even know how much time had passed. All she knew was that she didn't have her little boy.

"He's gone," she croaked pitifully. "He's gone, Tommy."