A/N: Just a reminder that I posted the last chapter out of order. I just moved it to the right place, but if you haven't read Tobias' POV of the wedding yet, or Christina's POV of the memorial, please go back to the last two chapters to find them.

As always, thank you so much to everyone who takes the time to review, favorite, and follow this story! I appreciate your support very much. Thank you also to my wonderful beta reader, Rosalie!

Chapter 41: Tris – Babysitting

It's not like Zeke and Shauna don't have plenty of babysitters when they want to go out by themselves. Between everyone in our faction, plus their families in Dauntless, it's almost a contest for who gets to watch Lionel each time.

So, I guess it's not surprising that Tobias and I don't end up filling the role until Lionel is ten months old. What's stranger, really, is that neither of us has watched a child this young before, given that everyone in Abnegation pitches in to help others whenever needed. But maybe that's why – others were so quick to volunteer that it never came down to us.

"He usually falls asleep after his eight o'clock feeding," Shauna tells us as she loosens his fingers from the necklace that he caught hold of. He makes a squawk of protest when she pulls it away and tucks it under her shirt. "So, you'll probably have a quiet evening after that. Just make sure you change his diaper first, around seven-thirty, or he'll wake up wet, and then he's hard to get back to sleep."

She wheels into the nursery, and I smile at the way Lionel extends his arms as if he's flying, clearly enjoying the movement from his seat in her lap. We follow them, somewhat mesmerized by the sheer volume of toys that fill the room. They're packed into bookshelves and are overflowing from the large chest. I can't imagine how a ten-month-old could possibly use so many items, but that may just be my perspective. We had very few toys in Abnegation.

Waving at the changing table, Shauna adds, "We use a disposable diaper at night, since it holds more, and cloth diapers the rest of the time."

We nod, a little wide-eyed, before I hesitantly admit that I've never changed a diaper before. Tobias seems relieved that I spoke up.

Zeke laughs. "It's easy. C'mere, and I'll show you."

He proceeds to demonstrate, swooping Lionel up from his mother's lap, laying him on the changing table, and giving him a toy to keep him occupied. I notice that it's attached to the table by a short tether, and it's easy to tell why once Lionel begins trying to throw it away from him.

"He'll roll off the table if you give him a chance, so keep a hand on him at all times," Zeke tells us, placing his palm firmly on his son's chest. He uses his other hand to wipe Lionel down before grabbing a cloth diaper from a large stack, folding it, and putting it into a water-proof cover. By the time he snaps it in place, I'm feeling more than a little daunted. I can only hope that Tobias and I can handle this task together.

"He'll fuss if the diaper is wet enough to bother him," Zeke continues, "so you don't need to constantly check it or anything. And if it needs to be changed for more solid reasons…." He smirks. "Well, you'll smell that pretty quickly."

"Yeah, I bet," Tobias responds snidely, "given who his father is." He mutters to me, "That was Zeke's secret weapon during fights." My mouth drops open a little at the implication, but Zeke just grins proudly.

"Hey, first rule of Dauntless – make use of your available resources."

Shauna rolls her eyes, and I do, too. What is it with men and bathroom humor?

"I'm sure you'll be fine," she says, turning away from her husband and focusing on me. "We'll be back around eleven. Uriah and Christina will be out, too, but George is always good with Lionel if you need a hand for any reason."

I nod again, half-tempted to relegate the evening's duties to George, but I'm pretty sure he and Amar have some type of plans, and besides, we agreed to do this. I won't interrupt them if I can avoid it.

So, instead I accept Lionel when Zeke drops him in my arms, and I follow them to the door while the infant squirms wildly against me.

"Bye-bye, sweetie," Shauna says, leaning forward to give him a kiss. His movements increase as he struggles to climb into her lap again. "Mommy and Daddy will be back soon."

"See ya in a bit, bud," Zeke adds, catching his son's gaze and waving his hand up and down. Lionel apparently knows this routine, because I feel him stiffen in my arms, and I see his eyes grow wide.

They're barely out the door before he starts bawling.

"Shh, it's okay," I say as soothingly as I can while trying to be heard over his wailing. "They're only going away for a little while." If he understands, he certainly doesn't indicate it. Instead, his volume increases to full-out screams.

He begins thrashing, too – hard enough that it's difficult to keep my grip, and I look at Tobias for help.

"Try setting him on the floor," he suggests. But whatever Lionel wants, it clearly isn't that. The moment he touches the surface, he twists around, grabbing at me as he cries in strange gasping, babbling sounds.

For lack of another choice, I pick him up again, trying to hold him on my hip the way I've seen Christina do. But instead of wrapping his legs around me as he does with her, he uses them to push off, launching himself backwards so hard and fast I almost drop him. I inhale sharply as the motion of catching him strains my wrist.

Tobias frowns when he sees me wince, and he reaches out, taking Lionel in firm hands.

"No hurting my wife," he scolds the child.

Lionel stops crying abruptly, twisting so he can look up at Tobias' face. He seems to be confused by the change in who's holding him and by the deep voice rumbling through Tobias' chest.

"Yeah, you heard me," Tobias adds, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards. "Stop all that squirming."

There's a moment of complete silence as the two stare at each other, and then Lionel gives a happy, giggling screech as he launches himself backwards again. He's clearly used to playing when a man holds him like that.

"Damn!" Tobias hisses as he stretches his own wrist to keep the baby from hitting the floor.

Lionel stares again before repeating, "Dam." Tobias' gaze shoots to mine, and both of our mouths drop open. Lionel giggles. "Dam dam dam dam dam."

"No," Tobias says, looking a bit panicked. "No, no, no." I feel the same surge of anxiety going through me. Our first time babysitting, and we've taught a ten-month-old to swear….

"Don't say that, Lionel," Tobias adds. But that only seems to encourage the repetitions.

My husband looks at me, his expression a bit desperate. "That's not his first word, is it?"

"I don't think so…." I certainly hope not, anyway. "I'm pretty sure he knows how to say Da-Da already."

Lionel gives a happy screech, now shouting "Dam" at the top of his lungs.

"Hey," I continue weakly, stepping close enough for Tobias to hear me, "maybe they'll think that's what he's saying now."

Tobias just groans as he shakes his head, but there's a small smile on his face. I can picture him trying to convince Zeke of that tomorrow.

For now, though, he apparently decides to change tactics.

"All righty, kiddo," he says as he swings Lionel through the air the way Zeke always does. "Let's play a nice, distracting game."

Lionel never stops moving the entire afternoon and evening, though he does eventually drop the unfortunate word we taught him, changing instead to other sounds.

We use more of the toys in his room than I would have expected, trying one after another in an attempt to keep him occupied – and squealing in joy rather than crying. Quiet is a concept that he clearly hasn't learned yet.

We're both nervous the first time we change his diaper, but we work together, needing four hands and five minutes to do what Zeke managed in thirty seconds with two. Clearly, practice makes a big difference with this task.

Nevertheless, we're proud when Tobias holds Lionel up afterwards, and we survey our results. Everything looks good.

Until we set the baby on the floor….

He immediately crawls right out of the diaper, giggling wildly as he takes off at top speed, his bare bottom waggling in the air while we chase after him. Obviously, we didn't fasten the diaper tightly enough.

By the time we're able to catch the little speed demon, he's left a trail of pee some three feet long.

We tighten the next diaper considerably better before cleaning up the mess. Lionel seems to find the cleaning process fascinating, and he happily sits beside us, pushing a cloth into the carpet in an adorable attempt to help. For the first time today, I begin to think that maybe this baby business isn't so bad.

Tobias may be thinking otherwise, though, because he comments wryly, "I'm starting to see why they went with brown carpet."

The reason for their flooring choices becomes even clearer when we attempt to feed Lionel dinner. The high chair is next to the dining room table, on the tiled part of the room, but he still manages to launch food all the way onto the carpet from there. I never imagined that mashed peas could fly so far.

"I'm pretty sure he's defying the laws of physics," I say thoughtfully as I watch the airborne mush cross half the room.

"Which ones, exactly?" Tobias counters as he eyes the sheer amount of food covering Lionel. "I don't think there was anywhere near this much in the jar."

We end up giving Lionel a bath to get him clean again, and Tobias spends the next half-hour cleaning up the water from every surface in the bathroom while I entertain the tiny whirlwind in the living room.

By the time seven-thirty rolls around, we're both thoroughly exhausted. We sit on the floor, on either side of the rolling, wiggling, crawling child as we stare at him with glazed-over eyes.

"How can he possibly have that much energy?" Tobias asks.

"Shauna swears that he's solar-powered." The corner of my mouth lifts. "She says he barely eats anything, but he goes like that all day long."

Tobias eyes me levelly. "So…if we turn out the lights, will he stop?"

The question draws a laugh out of me. "Hey, I'm all for trying it. But first, I think we'd better change his diaper again and give him his bottle."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…" Tobias mutters. "I don't suppose you're able to move, are you?"

Another grin pulls at my face as I force myself to my feet. "All that time punching bags, and you can't keep up with someone who can't even walk yet?"

"Nope." His tone reminds me strongly of Uriah's. "I admit defeat at the hands of the mighty Lionel."

By the time we finally get the baby to sleep, I'm ready to agree with Tobias' statement. We're too worn out to clean up the remaining mess from dinner, so instead we collapse on the couch, listening to our own growling stomachs and debating if we have the energy to do anything about them.

I'm just about ready to get a bowl of cereal when a sharp cry splits the quiet apartment. Tobias groans as we both drag ourselves to our feet and head to the nursery.

Lionel is standing in his crib, holding himself upright with the rails as a very strong odor fills the air.

The obvious swear word comes out of Tobias' mouth before he can think better of it, but fortunately Lionel doesn't seem to notice this time. He's too busy screaming.

And just to prove that not all diaper changes are as easy as the previous times, this one is anything but.

"I think we should have waited longer before changing him," Tobias says in frustration as the third round of poop comes out all over the diaper we're attempting to fasten. It leaks around the edges, smearing on Lionel's pajamas and our hands and the changing table as the baby kicks his legs and twists his entire body in an apparent escape attempt. The smell is atrocious.

"No kidding," I snarl in response, grabbing cloth diapers and using them to wipe up what I can reach as the waste continues to pour out. "Just how much can he hold in there?"

"He's definitely Zeke's kid" is Tobias' reply.

"Try lifting him up," I suggest, realizing that we're smearing the mess more with Lionel lying on his back.

And Tobias does, holding the baby at shoulder-level while I wipe his thrashing legs. Unfortunately, it proves to be a terrible angle when he pees again. There's no time to move as the liquid arcs through the air, hitting Tobias directly in the face.

My husband makes a disgusted gagging sound as he turns his head and simultaneously rotates Lionel, trying to redirect the stream. I grab the nearest diaper, shoving it into the flow…just as it stops.

For a moment, I stare at Tobias' dripping wet face, biting my lip. And then I start laughing. I try not to – I really do – but I don't think I've ever seen Tobias look quite so shell-shocked.

He watches me, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards as he seems to fight to keep it straight. And then he leans forward, deliberately rubbing his wet face all along mine as he gives me a kiss on the cheek.

"Eeewww," I squeal, backing away quickly and grabbing at the nearest cloth to find something to wipe myself with. But it's far from clean, and when I hold it up, I'm suddenly seized by a different impulse…the desire to use it as a weapon.

Tobias must sense my intent, because as soon as I lift it into launching position, he rotates so he's holding Lionel up between us.

"Hey, no using the kid as a shield!" I protest, eyeing Lionel's back end suspiciously to see if it's in imminent danger of erupting again.

"First rule of Dauntless…" Tobias quotes, grinning. And suddenly we're both laughing – hard – as Lionel giggles with us.

We spend the next half-hour in the bathroom – washing our hands and faces and holding Lionel's lower body under the faucet until he's clean enough for a bath. By the time we're done, he's so thoroughly awake I doubt he'll sleep again before adulthood. It'll probably take just as long to get his room back to normal.

Tobias tackles that effort while I walk Lionel around the living room, soothing him with songs I don't even remember learning as he becomes increasingly fussy. My eyes drift over the remaining mess from dinner with each pass, and I can't help thinking about how wet the bathroom is now. We're certainly not going to leave the place in good shape for Zeke and Shauna.

Actually, between all that and the nursery, it might be better to just call the whole apartment a loss. It would undoubtedly be easier to renovate a new one.

Eventually, Tobias hauls the changing table into the kitchen, obviously deciding that he needs better cleaning supplies – and closer at hand. But then he just stands next to it, watching me as I continue walking Lionel around in what is obviously a useless effort to get him back to sleep.

"I have an idea," he finally comments. "I'll be right back."

Homicidal thoughts pass through my head when he walks out of the apartment, leaving me alone with the whining, whimpering, and still energetic baby.

They're replaced by confusion when he returns two minutes later, carrying our desk chair. He wheels it over to me, giving me a half-smile, and suddenly I get it. Lionel is used to having his mother soothe him to sleep in her wheelchair.

It takes a while to figure out a good rhythm, but at least I'm able to sit this way, and eventually I find the right combination of back and forth movement to get the baby to sleep again.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I'm able to get him into his crib without waking him up.

When I return to the disaster area that was formerly known as the living room, Tobias is slumped on the couch, his entire body sagging with exhaustion. He barely looks up as I approach him.

"So, you ready to try for one of our own?" I ask with as straight a face as I can manage as I collapse next to him, leaning my head on his shoulder and feeling like I'll be asleep within seconds.

He doesn't even hesitate in his response.

"God, no."

A/N: On behalf of all of us who have ever had any of you babysit an extremely energetic baby: Sorry... For what it's worth, we really do understand when we come home and find the house like that.

A couple of updates that are unrelated to this chapter:

1. Most of you seem to like the idea of having me write some M-rated chapters and posting them separately. However, one reader made an excellent point that it's nice to be able to let her daughter read my stories without worrying that they're inappropriate for her age. So, I'm going to post all M-rated chapters under a separate account and will keep this one for T-rated stories. When I get ready to post something under the other account, I'll let you know the username. Also, just to clarify any misunderstandings, I'm still continuing this story and my "Becoming Determinant" one with their T ratings. I don't plan to stop them early or replace them with M-rated stories or anything like that.

2. For those who are reading "Bitter Cold," MuggleSarah sent a PM recently. She's having an extremely busy time in real life, as sometimes happens, and she hasn't been able to carve out time to write. However, she has not abandoned the story, so please be patient with her. And as an author, I'd like to mention that when we're having a tough time like that, it really helps to get supportive messages and reminders of how much you love the story. We don't get paid for fanfiction, so we post for our readers' sake, and we have much more incentive to somehow find the time to do that if you sweetly remind us how much you care about the story instead of sending complaints or threats. Just an FYI...

Speaking of reviews, please take a moment to let me know what you thought of this chapter. I always appreciate the support! :-)