"How long?" she asked, refusing to admit she was caving.
"A month, maybe two," he offered. "By then I should have learned enough to handle this alone."
"You expect me to reorder my life for an indefinite length of time only to be cast off once my usefulness has ended," she said. "Flattering."
"You know it's not like that," he chided. "You're my best friend. I'll need you for the rest of my life."
But you won't. And some day, I won't need you either.
That was how friendship was supposed to work. Someday she'd meet a real partner who made Walker pale in comparison, and he'd become the new rock in her life. Sure, no one had come close yet, but someday he would and she couldn't be dependent on Walker when that happened.
Hell, they were already moving in that direction. This baby hadn't come into existence all on his own. Somewhere out there was a woman forever entwined in Walker's life. What if she returned? What if she was the person who'd become Walker's rock? He'd never wanted a permanent relationship, but there was a child involved now. That seemed pretty damned permanent to her.
Raising a hand, she cupped his strong jaw. There was no hiding the worry and exhaustion on his face. His world of order and logic had just been disrupted, and he didn't know which way was up.
And he'd turned to her.
How do I leave him like this?
She wasn't the sort of person who ever put her well-being above another's, especially a child's. Was she really going to walk away when Walker needed her most? What sort of person would she be to leave a defenseless baby and her oldest friend in a mess when she had the skills to help them?
"Clara," he said, his voice almost a whisper as he placed a hand over hers. Their fingers entwined as he pressed his cheek into her touch. "Don't leave me now."
She closed her eyes, feeling his hand on hers. Staying would be the wrong choice for her. But it would be the right choice for him and the baby. Two to one. If she went into this with her eyes open, she could make sure no lines were crossed that they couldn't come back from. They could survive this with their friendship intact. She'd make sure of it.
"Three weeks," she negotiated, extracting her hand and stepping back.
The breath rushed from his lungs in a loud exhale. "Three weeks," he agreed.
"I'll teach you everything I know, but then you have to be on your own. This isn't my baby. I can't let this change in your life be a change in mine."
His eyes slid away from hers. "I understand."
"Okay." She let out a long sigh. "Then let's get to work. I need some paper to write out a list of things we'll need tonight. Your driver will be able to get most of it."
"Whatever you need."
Nodding, she dropped to the couch, eyes on the baby, and hoped she hadn't just made the biggest mistake of her life.
…
Walker stared at the crib in his bedroom. It didn't belong. It didn't fit. His walls were lined with bookshelves filled with books and spare parts. One corner of the room was a makeshift workshop where he tinkered and created in the middle of the night when sleep evaded him. The other side housed a low couch where he'd sat with his arm wrapped around a woman a time or two. Neither sides of his life were conducive to a crib pushed up by the bed. It was out of place. A physical reminder that a baby didn't fit into his world any more than a crib did into his bedroom.
What am I doing?
He couldn't raise a child. What did he know about babies? His driver had been the one to scourer the city tonight trying to find the essentials he'd need to get him through the next few hours. He hadn't even known what to ask for before Clara had told him.
I have no business being a father.
A smile tugged at his lips. He could almost imagine Clara's response if she could hear his thoughts.
"There's a baby in your home, Sherlock. It's a little late for second thoughts."
Even when she wasn't here she was right. He'd made reckless mistakes that in hindsight were the heights of stupidity. He was lucky it was just a baby on his doorstep and not someone trying to extort him. He should have been more careful. More intelligent.
He should have been more like Clara.
How the hell did I let this happen?
And who had it happened with?
He ran a hand down his face, doing the mental math to back date the months. Somewhere out there was his baby's mother who obviously wanted nothing to do with him. Not that he could blame her after having clearly gone through a pregnancy alone, but still. Didn't creating a kid together warrant a conversation?
Unable to help himself, he crossed over to the crib to run his fingers along the wood.
Regrets did him no good. Reality had arrived and he needed to figure out how to deal with it. Finding his son's mother wasn't his top priority right now. Not when he only had a month to learn how to keep a child alive before Clara left. Three weeks would fly by and then he'd be alone again.
Maybe forever.
There'd been no missing the shock and pain in Clara's eyes when she'd looked at his son. She'd help him through his latest mess, but he couldn't guarantee what would happen after. This might be the straw that finally pushed her too far. She'd realize she could do a hell of a lot better than an absentminded genius who spent more time thinking about software than people.
And then he'd have to watch the light in her eyes die when she looked at him. Her face would go carefully blank when he entered a room, and her words would become polite and bland until they finally parted ways. He'd seen it before. Watched it happen time and again to those who'd claimed to care for him. He'd been waiting ten years to see that expression on Clara's face.
And tonight, she'd come close enough to make his heart twist in his chest.
I've been alone before.
He could do it again if he had to.
Couldn't he?
"Walker?"
The soft sound of her voice wrapped around him, banishing the dark thoughts. For a second, he closed his eyes, embracing the tiny respite that her presence offered.
"I think I have him settled."
Sighing, he turned to see her in the doorway.
The breath froze in his lungs at the sight. Clara stared up at him, her feet bare, her hair messy, with a baby nestled peacefully in her arms. His child. She was cuddling his son, and that knowledge made his chest tighten.
"Is the crib ready?" she asked, shifting her weight in a small rocking motion.
"Yes." The word scraped against his throat as he pushed it out.
Her gaze drifted off him as she came farther into the room. Avoiding him, she made a beeline for the crib and gently lay the baby down.
"He needs a name," she said, tucking the child in.
"I don't know what to call him."
"No one ever does. Pick one that makes sense to you."
Name another human being as if it's nothing.
"I doubt he'll sleep through the night, but he's been through a lot, so who knows."
Again, her eyes didn't meet his.
"I'm going to claim the guest room for the time being. I took tomorrow off work, which means we can get everything settled and reevaluate what we need to do. All that can wait till the morning. I'm beat."
She was at the door before he could call her back.
"Clara." He tried anyway.
She paused, turning back to him. "Yes?"
"I-" The words died on his tongue. How did he explain he knew how badly he'd screwed up in her eyes? Knew she might never forgive him for it?
"Don't worry about it, Walker," she said before he could speak. Like a wraith, she slipped from the room.
He stared at the empty doorway, a cold certainty filling him.
He had three weeks to make this right for all of them. And if he couldn't, it wouldn't just be his room that felt empty.
It'd be the rest of his life.
Chapter Three
"I'm sorry. It sounded like you just said you wouldn't be in today because Walker Beckett had a baby."
Clara ran her hand down her face. "Again, yes. That's the third time you've repeated it, Diane."
"Walker Beckett."
"Yes."
"Had a baby."
"Yes."
"Do the scientific journals know about him yet?"
She sighed. "Obviously, there was a woman involved."
"And just to clarify, the woman wasn't you, right?"
"This right here? This is why people say you shouldn't be friends with your boss."
"I'm sorry. I'm trying to wrap my head around this. I thought it was a hoax when I got your email."
"Which is why I'm calling. I won't be in the office today, as you can see, but I'll have the Barlow article to you by Friday, I promise."
"I assume you'll be taking more time as this plays out? We've got a great maternity package, but I'm not sure it applies to being the best friend of the actual parent."
She snorted. "You should really take that up with HR at the next meeting."
"I'll see that it makes it on the schedule." The humor dropped from Diane's voice. "But seriously, Clara, what have you gotten yourself into?"