Out of breath, Arthur squeezes past the row of plush leather rolling chairs to find the empty seat near the head of the conference table.
He settles in, clearing his throat and smoothing his tie down. "Sorry. Er... What did I miss?"
Merlin snorts, sliding him a page of notes. The rest of his colleagues stare at him with peculiar expressions, and Arthur fumbles uncomfortably under their scrutiny.
"Er, carry on," he nods. Most of them turn their heads back to the graph that's being presented, but a few linger.
He ducks his head and digs around for a pen that works as the presentation continues.
"…which is something we're aiming to complete early next year. Arthur, have you got the projections?"
"Hmm?" He looks up suddenly as someone kicks him under the table to find the whole room focused on him once more.
"Oh, right, yes, I've just got them here—" he twists and rummages in his briefcase for the file, wishing he had been a bit more prepared.
He'd been all ready to leave when Gwen had stormed out of the bathroom with her hair dripping wet.
"I cannot bloody believe this!" she said. "We need to move. I cannot deal with this water issue anymore. It's just—how am I meant to...?" she gave frustrated growl and Arthur struggled to temper his amusement.
Even in a mood like this, he found his wife adorable.
"I'm going to need you to take her to daycare, Arthur."
His smile fell.
He'd be late. He should have anticipated the extra time. Shaking his head, he banished the selfish thought and an understanding smile reclaimed his lips.
"Don't worry, love, I'll handle it," he gave her a reassuring kiss that calmed her slightly, and then he was off to take his daughter to daycare.
And now here he is, groping in his briefcase, searching for the right file which he'd been meticulous about placing in there the night before. He finds it eventually, along with one of Scout's teething rings. How did that get in there?
"Ahem, yes, here," he passes the copies around the table. "As you can see, this quarter's performance was..."
He pauses when he realizes that nobody is looking at the report, but rather most of his colleagues seem to be staring somewhere to the left of his head.
"I'm sorry, is there—?" He turns around to look at the wall behind him. "Is there something…?"
"Um, Arthur…it's just….you have something on your shoulder."
Arthur tilts his chin down to find a patch of spit up on his shoulder.
Oh god.
Now he remembers. He'd picked her up quickly and Gwen had been about to warn him when it happened, right on his newly ironed shirt.
He was going to change it when he received a phone call, and he'd become so distracted that he'd forgotten.
Brilliant. Now everyone probably thinks he's a complete slob.
"Oh, yes, that's… Right. Um, well, as I was saying, if we compare this quarter's performance with the figures from last year…"
Somehow, he makes it through the rest of the meeting without any more embarrassment, though he suspects they are having a hard time taking him seriously with the contents of his daughter's stomach on his shirt.
It isn't anything he isn't used to, but it hardly helps him keep up his professional appearance.
Arthur is one of the last to exit the room, and one of his colleagues rests a hand on his clean shoulder as she passes. "I wish I could tell you it gets better," she says.
He wonders if she meant to be reassuring. He just nods, perplexed, as she parts with a sympathetic frown.
Merlin comes up behind him when they are the only two left and pats his back. "Maybe keep an extra shirt in the office?"
"Thank you for your infinite wisdom, Merlin," Arthur replies.
He barely dodges his father on the way back to his office. Settling behind his desk, he picks up the phone and dials his wife, who attempts to soothe his ego in between fits of hysterical laughter.
"Arthur...?" Merlin asks hesitantly.
Arthur just raises his eyebrows as he stands before his desk, digging through his paperwork.
"Um...what's on your back?"
"It's a turtle, Merlin," he rolls his eyes. "What do you think it is? It's my daughter."
"You brought Scout to work?"
"Please, continue to shower me with your astute observations. It's truly humbling to be in the presence of such a great mind."
"But...isn't she a bit small?"
"She's a baby." Arthur brushes past him, unaware of the tiny hands flailing at Merlin.
"Well, it's just...everyone else has brought their grown children today."
"And I've brought my child, who is at present not fully grown. Are we discriminating?"
"No, it's just... Nevermind," he turns to go, but something holds him back. At great risk to his person, he ventures to ask, "Just to be clear, Gwen knows she's here, right?"
Arthur's glare is sufficient to answer his question.
"That's what I thought," Merlin mutters, closing Arthur's door behind him.
Up until the moment Arthur needs to use the copier, he's convinced it had been a great idea. Twenty minutes later he's still leaning against the machine, documents in hand, staring bored stiff at the wall as every person that passes within a fifteen foot radius comes to fawn over the gurgling infant attached to his back.
"…and it gives me great pleasure to present your new chairman, Arthur Pendragon," his father beams proudly, and the room erupts in applause.
Arthur smiles bashfully as Gwen rubs her hand over his back with loving pride, and he leans to kiss her before standing up.
He's rehearsed his speech so many times in his head, he doesn't even need the note cards he brought along. At least without them he might make a better impression, he hopes.
He smiles at the large audience, spotting friends, colleagues, and many unfamiliar faces that he vows to make an effort to know when he assumes his new position.
This is only the beginning.
Striding toward the stage, he tries to exude as much confidence as he can muster, but he falters when he feels a small tug on his hand.
It's Gwen. She caught up with him, but he isn't sure why.
She's shoving the note cards into his hand and kissing him on the cheek as he looks at her with confusion, since he had just told her he didn't need them.
She smooths her hand over the side of his jacket and gives him an encouraging smile before slipping gracefully back to their table.
Arthur schools his expression again, focusing on the task ahead of him and continuing toward the stage. Ascending the small set of stairs, he shakes his father's hand before taking the podium.
He sets the cards down and starts his speech with a cheesy joke which the audience obligingly laughs at.
As he waits for silence to return, his eyes roam the auditorium, taking in the scene before him. His gaze falls on his wife, who looks incredibly lovely, and he draws confidence from her presence.
He smiles and continues his speech. It's rousing and poignant, and they laugh and applaud in all the right places.
His chest swells with pride, and he sees it reflected in his father's eyes.
It is a crowning moment that he knows he'll never forget.
As he returns to his seat with a big grin on his face, his wife leans over to kiss him one more time, whispering in his ear, "I think we need to keep your washing separate from Scout's from now on."
He gives her an odd look, wondering what inspired her to mention it at that moment, but then she's pressing something into his hand.
He squeezes the soft fabric in his palm underneath the table, thumb stroking over it as he tries to deduce what it could be.
When he thinks no one is looking, he scoots back a little so he can examine it in his lap.
A tiny, white, fuzzy sock rests in his hand with a few fibers from his coat stuck to it. He blanches, glancing over at his wife who's smiling and applauding the current speaker.
At that moment, all he can think is thank god for this woman.
A/N: Thank you for reading and for your kind reviews!
To Sherri, who is aghast that I refer to their baby as a 'creature': I am writing with Arthur's experience in mind as a first-time father and (depending on which story you choose to pin this to) as an only child who probably has no experience with babies. He is awed, fascinated, and completely in love with his first child, and I think part of that fascination is trying to wrap his head around how she came into being. For now she is a beloved little mystery, and as she grows he will begin to see her as her own small person.
Or perhaps she will always be his little creature... :)