It’s not every day that Addison Montgomery shows up to work with a baby on her hip.

But there she is—striding through the halls of the hospital, one arm balancing her very adorable, very wide-eyed one-year-old son, Henry, while she juggles a tablet in her other hand. She looks exhausted.

You catch sight of her near the nurse’s station, adjusting Henry on her hip as she bounces him gently, trying to calm him. His little hand is curled around the fabric of her white coat, and he’s watching everything around him with pure fascination.

Addison notices you watching and lets out a sigh, already bracing for a comment. “Before you say anything—yes, I brought him to work. My sitter canceled last minute, and I had no choice.”

You hold up your hands in surrender. “I wasn’t going to say anything. I mean, other than the fact that he’s ridiculously cute.”

Henry babbles something unintelligible, and you grin.

Addison shakes her head. “Yeah, well, he’s also ridiculously fussy today, and I have back-to-back surgeries.” She looks down at Henry, her voice softening. “I just need you to cooperate for a few hours, buddy.”

Henry, naturally, responds by smacking her ID badge and giggling.

You hesitate for only a second before offering, “I can watch him.”

Addison blinks at you. “What?”

“I mean, I don’t have anything critical for the next couple of hours,” you explain. “I can keep an eye on him while you’re in surgery.”

She looks skeptical. “You know he’s a baby, right? A tiny human with needs and demands?”

You snort. “Yeah, Addison, I’ve met babies before.”

She exhales, clearly torn. “Are you sure? Because once I hand him over, he’s your problem.”

“I’m sure.” You extend your arms toward Henry, who looks at you with big, curious eyes before reaching out his little hands. Well, that settles that.

Addison watches as you settle Henry against your hip like a natural, his tiny fingers grabbing onto the collar of your scrub top. She lets out a breath. “Okay. Okay, fine. But if he cries—”