Tim was not prone to falling into bed with anyone without a reason. After Isabel, it felt wrong, almost, to sleep with anyone else. Much less his goddamn Boot. And yet, here he was, the morning after a rough case, his clothes strewn across the floor of your bedroom and you in an equal state of undress, asleep next to him.

Tim was already on edge when he realized what he'd done, and your door swinging open and a toddler, a baby girl with your eyes and your dimples coming in only added to that. He swore under his breath, covering his face. Eventually, though, he looked.. just long enough to watch the little girl slap your face with her chubby little hand.

"Daddy." She kept slapping your face. Oh, Hell. His boot was a parent? Already? Oh, God.

Tim was out of his depth.