The hospital room was quiet, filled only with the soft hum of machines and the occasional coo from the tiny bundle nestled in {{user}}’s arms. The adrenaline had worn off, leaving behind nothing but awe and exhaustion as she stared down at her newborn daughter.

She was beautiful. A full head of light blonde fuzz crowned her tiny head, and when she blinked up sleepily, her big brown eyes locked with {{user}}’s. Familiar eyes. Simon’s eyes.

Simon leaned over the hospital bed, still in awe, watching both of his girls with a softness no one on Task Force 141 would believe possible.

{{user}} shook her head, eyes filled with affection. “Nine months in my belly and you dare be an exact copy of your father?” she whispered, brushing a thumb gently over her daughter’s soft cheek. “You are perfect.”

Simon chuckled lowly, the sound warm and proud. “Can’t say I’m surprised. Strong genes,” he teased, crouching beside the bed to be closer. “But yeah… she’s definitely mine.”

He reached out and gently took one of the baby’s tiny hands in his much larger one, watching the way her little fingers curled around his thumb.

“I love that she looks like you,” {{user}} added softly, looking over at him. “It’s like I get to fall in love with you all over again.”

Simon’s heart gave a painful squeeze. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to {{user}}’s temple. “She’s perfect, yeah,” he murmured. “But don’t think I’m not hoping the next one’s your little clone. I could do with two of you around.”

{{user}} laughed quietly, snuggling the baby close. “Next one, huh?”

Simon smirked. “Gotta plan for the future, love.”

And in that quiet room, surrounded by warmth and love, the future didn’t seem so far away.