8 Months Later

John Smith had been anticipating this very day. He had been excited and anxious at the same time, though mostly excited. He glanced at the woman in bed who had sweat dripping down her forehead, teeth clenched as a wave of pain hit her.

He stroked the back of her hand gently despite her having a death grip on his. How long was it since it started? Five hours ago? It felt like a lifetime.

John felt nothing but pride and love for the woman who was currently in labour. Soon, he was going to meet their son.

"You're doing great, Clara," the doctor encouraged. "Just breathe in and then push as you breathe out."

She screamed in pain, doing as the doctor instructed.

John brought her hand to his lips. He considered giving her words of encouragement, but decided against it, not wanting to worsen the situation.

"How are you holding up, detective?"

"As fine as one can get while his wife is giving birth," he answered before wincing as Clara screamed once more.

"Right, right," the doctor said. "I think I'm beginning to see the head, thank the Lord."

"This is bloody painful," Clara hissed squeezing her husband's hand.

John tucked a few strands of her hair behind her ear. "You're doing great."

"Having a blast is the sentence you're looking for," she said sarcastically. She just wanted to get this over with. As much as she enjoyed being pregnant, being in labour for five hours isn't exactly the in the top of her list.

"Bit more bit more."

A few minutes later, the sound of a wailing baby filled the room.

Clara never felt so relieved in her life. She couldn't quite remember what happened next. There was a multitude of kisses from John. He even had a stupid grin on his face and the next thing she knew, her baby was handed to her.

"He's beautiful," John murmured as he closely examined their child.

Clara could only smile at her new-born son. She was beyond exhausted. "Hello, there," she whispered, stroking his soft cheek.

Dave Oswald fiddled with his hands before checking his watch for the time. He was stood up before sitting back down on the bench. The door to his daughter's suite was still closed. He had been informed by John that Clara had given birth just forty minutes ago and rushed to the hospital and discovered that he wouldn't be allowed in just yet. The doctor and nurses needed to be sure that both mother and child are in good health.

Now, here he is, a grandfather waiting to meet his grandson.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door slowly open and out came a doctor and two nurses.

Dave immediately got to his feet.

"Are you a family member?"

"I'm Clara's father," Dave introduced himself and shook hands with the doctor.

"Well, congratulation, Clara's father and the baby's grandad," the doctor said with a smile.

"May I go in?"

The doctor then stepped aside. "Oh, yes, of course," he replied. "Just keep in mind that Mrs Smith just went through labour so she might be a bit on the tired and drowsy side."

When Dave entered the ward, he was greeted by the sight of John sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at his son who was in Clara's arms, sleeping peacefully.

She looked up and flashed him a kind smile. "Would you like to say hello to grandad?" she quietly asked the baby.

Dave slowly approached his daughter's side, afraid of startling the baby. When his grandson was handed to him, his heart immediately melted. He knew that he would do anything for the little one.

Clara leaned into John as she silently watched her father bond with the new-born. She felt an arm wrap around her shoulder.

"Have you decided on a name?"

The couple exchanged looks before John spoke. "Malcolm Dougan Smith."

Dave beamed. "Hello, Malcolm," he greeted as the baby stared at his grandad with wide brown eyes.

If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that he never wanted to leave the hospital that night. The day that followed would be full of goodbyes.

The previous eight months had been tough on everyone as Dave was on trial, though not for drug-related offences. No. He used his connections and made a deal. Instead, he was being charged with money laundering. Thanks to his friends, he was sentenced to four years of house arrest, which takes place the day after his grandson's birth as he didn't want to miss it. For the next few years, he would be confined to his estate in Blackpool. True, it hardly seemed fair that he got off lightly but he was content at his daughter and grandson's well-being.

"I'm going to miss him," Dave sighed as he handed Malcolm back to his mother.

"Are you allowed to have visitors?" she asked, as that was a matter the court was still deciding the since last time she contacted her father.

"Yes," he confirmed. "Though, only one at a time."

"I'm sure we can work our way around it with video chat or something," John assured his wife.

"See, he's got it figured out," Dave added. The last thing he wanted to do was put his daughter under stress after she had given birth. "Besides, those four years will fly past us before you can even blink!"

He stayed at the hospital for another hour, chatting with the couple and fawning over his new-born grandson.

Just before Dave left, Clara gave her father a warm hug as they said their goodbyes. He knew she would eventually be occupied with her family to worry about him constantly.

"John," the older man said as they shook hands as John angled his body slightly to allow him to hold Malcolm in his arms securely.

Once her father left, Clara let out a tired sighed as she leaned back against the hospital bed.

"You should sleep," her husband commented. "I can keep Malcolm company until the nurse comes."

She reached for his hand, flashing him a contended smile. "Just going to admire the view for a few more minutes," she murmured as she gazed at her husband and child.

Clara scooted over to make room for him and patted the empty spot. "Come on."

He happily obliged before handing Malcolm back to her.

John leaned forward and kissed her. No words of love needed to be exchanged. Everything he wanted to say and felt was in the kiss and she could feel it.

"Get some shut-eye, Clara Smith."

"If you say so, detective," she murmured, the sight of her husband caressing Malcolm's cheek lulling her to sleep.

The End

Thank you so much for reading this story! I hope you had a fun time reading it :)

I have a new fic planned which takes place in the Victorian era (yes, another one), so if you're interested in that stay tuned. I'll be posting a preview and updates on my Tumblr.