Iggy and a Baby

What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

By: Edna Baudelaire

Oneshot Number: 1

Note: This is set when the Flock is a tad bit older. Iggy is maybe 20..21ish. Max and Fang had a baby, and they ask the blind kid to babysit. Don't ask why...

Enjoy:

Iggy's POV

"Bri's diapers are located at 3 o'clock, 23 degrees north and her bottles are 9 o'clock, 54 degrees south in the left cabinet-" Max rambled on, occasionally opening closet doors and shoving baby toys and necessities into my waiting arms. But all I could think about was: diapers?

How was a blind guy supposed to change a diaper?

I snapped out of my trance when Max's fingers snapped in front of my face.

"Are you even listening to me?" she asked, impatience dripping from her voice like fresh honey. "I told you, Fang. We should have asked Nudge or Angel-"

"He'll do fine," Fang assured her, planting a light kiss on her forehead before patting my shoulder sympathetically. "Iggy can kill 5 Erasers at once and you can't trust him to watch our daughter?"

Max huffed, lightly placing Bri in my arms. She squirmed uncomfortably. "Fine. Iggy, if you need anything or if anything goes wrong, you know our cell numbers. And I swear, if anything, I mean anything catches on fire-"

"Don't worry!" I exclaimed, holding my hands up. "Everything will be fine! You two go have fun on your date. Don't worry about me. You can trust me."

"Right," Max said, her mouth dry. They both gave their daughter a gentle kiss on the forehead before shuffling out the door, the keys rattling in their hands.

Then it got quiet.

And it was just me, and a heavy, writhing bird baby child...thing in my arms. Her small wings fluttered lightly, flapping against my face. Yukk.

I set her down on the floor. "Uh...what do you want to do, baby?" If you couldn't tell by now, I'm not the fatherly type of guy. Never really saw the appeal in a small chubby life form that cried and pooped throughout the duration of its first 10 years on the earth. I didn't think anyone could want that...

I was about to ask again, not really understanding why I expected an answer in the first place, when Bri opened her mouth and howled, tears pouring from her tiny eyes.

"Mama! Babba!"

"Shit," I muttered under my breath, scooping her in my arms, attempting to cradle her, but then feeling foolish and resorting to putting her back on the floor.

She was still crying.

Why the hell did I agree to this?

I don't know kids.

I don't like kids.

What did I get myself into now?

Bri's screeching slowly got louder, causing my eardrums to pound against my brain. I could feel the beginnings of an uncomfortable headache creeping up...

"Mama! Babba!" she cried, pounding her tiny fists upon the floor.

"Mama and Babba went out! They'll be home soon!" I explained, halfheartedly. She continued to cry.

"No!" she wailed, wiping away her tears. "I wan' Mama and Babba!"

"They'll be home soon sweetie. Right now, we get to have fun! Eh? How about that? You want something to eat? An apple?"

"No." Her sobs retreated, transforming into small sniffles.

"An orange?"

"No."

"A banana?"

"No."

OK. I get it. This kid didn't like fruit.

"What do you want?"

She thought for a moment. "Paw-stik-uh," she stuttered.

Hang on, let me clean out my ears...OK. "What?"

"Pawp-stik-ull!"

Oh.

"Popsicle?" I asked.

"Yee!" she yelled, my eardrums almost shattering.

I scooped her up, and plopped her gently on the kitchen counter. "One Pawp-stik-ull, coming right up!" I rummaged through the freezer, my teeth chattering as my fingers delicately fluttered over the frozen foods. I removed the popsicles, feeling like I was performing surgery, delicately removing it from the frozen stacks of boxes and bags. I plopped it on the counter, snaking my arm around Bri's body, making sure she was still there and not...dead on the floor.

She was there.

Thank God.

"What color do you want?" I asked.

"Lee-low!" she squealed.

Damn, would I ever learn how to speak baby?

"What?" I asked, scratching my head. Her small childish hand smacked my shoulder and because she inherited our strength, I have to admit, it stung a little.

"Ow!" I explained.

"Lee-low!" she commanded. Man, she was so much like Max. So bossy...

"OK! OK! I get it! Yellow! Here you go, you little squirt." I handed her a yellow one, after running my hand through the box, feeling the array of colors.

"Gabba!" she squealed, sticking the frozen juice in her mouth. I could already hear it dripping down her chin and onto the counter.

"Damn," I said, reaching over for a paper towel.

"Damn," she repeated.

I froze. "No, Bri. Don't say that."

"Damn."

"Bri-"

"Damn!"

"Say it one more time, and I'll take away your popsicle!" I warned.

Silence.

"Damn!" She giggled, dripping more yellow juice on the counter.

"I warned you," I said as I snatched the popsicle from her hands.

Wrong move.

I thought she was loud before, but that was nothing compared to now. I swear, that baby had a sonic scream. I dropped to the floor, clutching my oversensitive ears.

".-stick-ule!" she demanded, wailing even louder, if that was even possible.

"Here!" I thrust it into her tiny hands, relishing in the happy silence that followed. I waited till she was finished before plopping her on the floor. I wet a paper towel and wiped up the mess she left on the counter. I turned around to pick her up-

But found nothing.

"Bri?" I called out. "Where are you?"

"Damn!" she called out from over to my left, giggling.

I ran over to her, letting my hearing guide my feet. But my ears couldn't here the plethora of toys scattered on the ground. My foot came into contact with one, then another, and before I knew it, my whole body came tumbling to the ground, landing on pokey edges and sharp pieces.

"Shit!" I exclaimed, massaging my knee.

"Shit!" Bri repeated.

Are you serious?

"Bri! Don't say that!"

"Shit!"

I swear to God, I will never, ever have kids.

"Bri! Get over here!"

"Damn! Shit!" She giggled maniacally as she raced for her room. She was quick-

But I was quicker.

I scooped her up, feeling the stickiness against my bare arms from where the popsicle juice had dried on her arms.

"I am so not giving you a bath," I warned.

She remained quiet.

"Bri?"

Silence.

I shook her a little, wondering why she was being so quiet. But that's when I smelled it.

Oh no.

Max's POV

"Just one call. Just to see how they're doing?" I pleaded. Fang had the cell phone clutched in his hand. I batted my eyelashes, attempting to flirt.

"You're pathetic, you know that?" he joked.

"I know," I said before snatching the phone, quickly dialing the house number. It rung, once...twice...

"Hello?" A very distressed Iggy answered from the other end.

"Iggy? It's Max. How's everything going?"

"Uh...fine?"

"Are you sure? What's Bri doing?"

"Shit! Damn!" Wait a minute...that wasn't Iggy's voice.

"Did my baby just curse?"

"No..." Iggy lied.

"Shit! Damn!" Bri's voice traveled over the phone line, like electricity flowing through my veins.

"Iggy, you have two seconds to tell me that that is not my daughter cursing."

"It's not your daughter cursing?" he said a little too quickly.

"Iggy-"

"Listen, I'm trying to change her diaper, and its a little hard when I've got to hold a phone as well-"

"Mine!" Bri explained.

"No, Bri. The phone is mine." Iggy argued.

"Mine!"

"Mine!"

"Mine!"

"Mine!"

The sounds of a scramble filled the earpiece before I heard Bri scream: "Shit! Damn!".

And then the line went blank.

I looked up at Fang, who tried to suppress a smile.

"Next time, we're getting Nudge." I sighed before grabbing the keys.

Iggy's POV

The phone tumbled to the floor with a quiet thud! Bri giggled as she almost joined the phone on the ground, before my arms caught her. I had to hold my breath. The smell was everywhere. I didn't want to, but I was going to have to give this kid a serious bath. I ran to the bathroom, anxious to get away from the stink. I don't know how it got so out of hand. One minute, I was talking with Max on the phone, and the next thing I know, I'm wrestling with a half-naked two year old. I don't know where her diaper landed...

I turned on the faucet, letting the tub fill with clean water. I added soap and let it foam and bubble.

"Come here, you." I slid Bri closer, removing her only clothing left and tossing it into the hamper. She giggled, slapping her tummy.

"Pawp-stick-ule."

"No. Bath."

"No bath."

"No pawp-stick-ule."

She humphed, an amazing little clone of Max. I reached over and turned the faucet off, testing the water temperature. I turned back to scoop up Bri-

But she wasn't there.

Again.

"Shit," I muttered.

"Shit is right," Max said from the doorway. I jumped, slopping soap all over myself.

"Shit is way right. It's everywhere." The anger in her voice made me shrink inside myself. I kept my eyes trained on the floor, even though I couldn't see it.

"Where is my daughter?" She commanded.

"I-uh...I."

"Shit! Damn!"

Found her.

Her little feet pitter-patted against the linoleum and Max gasped. "What is my daughter covered in? And why does she have a popsicle? She already had one after dinner!"

Oops.

"Oh, look! There she is!" I said, full of fake happiness. "Looks like I'll just be on my way-"

Max grabbed the collar of my shirt. "You are so dead."

"Shit!" Bri exclaimed.

I agree.

Tell me what you think, drop a review :D

And if you have a certain oneshot you want me to write, suggest it in a review and I'll get to a-writing.

Edna B.