"Clara, are you not done yet?" Cassandra called from the living room, adjusting Shaun on her hip. "We're going to be late."
"Just give me five more minutes!" Clara's voice echoed from her bedroom. "I can't find my other earring!"
Cassandra sighed and turned to the mirror, studying her reflection. She'd chosen a simple sundress that hugged her post-pregnancy curves. Shaun wore a tiny button-up shirt with khaki shorts, looking like a miniature gentleman—minus the drool pooling at the corner of his mouth.
"My baby's all grown up," she murmured, kissing his forehead. "Ten months old already."
Shaun smiled up at her.
But his mind was elsewhere.
'I have to carry out the quest today. How the hell am I supposed to get close to Miss Brooks in the middle of a crowded birthday party? Let alone drink from her breast?'
He'd been turning the problem over for days. Every scenario ended in disaster. He couldn't walk. Couldn't talk. Couldn't manufacture a moment alone with her.
'If I wasn't stuck in this fucking body, this would be easy.'
Nothing was coming to him. No plan, no strategy. Just mounting frustration.
Clara finally emerged, one hand still fastening her earring.
Shaun sat on the couch, tense with thought. Clara paused at the top of the stairs, amused by the serious expression on his baby face. Next to him, Cassandra had fallen asleep sitting upright, mouth slightly open.
Clara made her way down quietly. When she reached Shaun, she suddenly scooped him up from behind.
"Gotcha!" she whispered, fingers finding his ticklish spots.
Shaun's body reacted before his mind could stop it, squirming and laughing. "Clara!"
"Shaun!" Clara whispered back. "Now fake sleep. You know the drill."
This was their routine. Shaun went limp in her arms, eyes closing, breathing evening out.
Clara looked at her sleeping sister, then grinned. "I have an idea."
She set Shaun down and positioned herself next to Cassandra. She mouthed, "You ready?"
Shaun closed his eyes.
Clara shook Cassandra's shoulder. "Cass. Wake up."
Cassandra's eyes fluttered open. "Mmm? What?"
"The party's over," Clara said, her voice serious.
"What? Over?"
Cassandra looked around frantically. The curtains were drawn. Shaun lay seemingly asleep. Everything looked dark and quiet.
"You were too tired. I stayed home with Shaun. The party ended an hour ago."
"No." Cassandra's voice cracked. "Clara, you should have woken me up!"
Shaun's eyes popped open. He sat up with a huge smile.
Clara burst out laughing. "Got you!"
Cassandra stared at them both, mouth hanging open. "You two are not serious!" But even as she scolded them, a smile broke through.
Something warm settled in Shaun's chest.
'I have to keep this. Whatever happens with the quest, I have to keep these moments.'
---
Outside Miss Brooks's house, the street was alive with activity. Families walked toward the front door, music drifting from open windows, balloons tied to the mailbox bobbing in the breeze.
Inside, the transformation was complete. Pink and white streamers hung from the ceiling. A banner reading "HAPPY 1ST BIRTHDAY MIRA & MARA" stretched across the wall. Tables groaned under food. Finger sandwiches, fruit trays, cookies, and a massive two-tier cake.
Miss Brooks appeared through the crowd, her face lighting up. She wore a flowing dress, her hair pulled back in a loose braid. "Cassandra! Clara! I'm so glad you could make it!"
A man appeared beside her. Tall, fit, graying hair, warm smile. His hand rested naturally on Miss Brooks's lower back.
"Mr. Brooks," Cassandra said, extending her hand.
"Please, call me Richard," he said. "And you must be Clara. Sorry I haven't been around. Work keeps me traveling most of the time."
"Richard's in sales," Miss Brooks added, her smile tight. "Gone three weeks out of every month."
"Someone's got to pay the bills," Richard said with a laugh.
Miss Brooks's expression shifted. A flicker of loneliness, quickly buried.
Shaun stared up at him.
'So this is the guy wasting those tits. Gone three weeks a month while she's stuck here alone. What a waste.'
The party continued. Music played, children shrieked, adults chatted. Shaun spent most of the time in Clara's arms, watching.
Hours passed. Nothing came to him.
Clara shifted him. "You want to crawl around? Make some new friends?"
Shaun spotted Miss Brooks across the room, bent over the present table.
This was it.
Clara set him down. "Go on, explorer."
Shaun began crawling. Ten feet. Eight feet. Six feet.
A baby appeared in his path.
Pudgy face. Green onesie. Drooling.
'Get out of my way.'
Shaun tried to crawl around. The baby shifted, blocking him again.
He tried the other side. The baby mirrored him, giggling.
'You've got to be kidding me.'
Frustration boiled over. Shaun shoved the baby aside.
The baby toppled over and immediately began wailing.
"WAAAAAAHHHHH!"
Heads turned. Conversations stopped.
"Shaun!" Cassandra's voice rang out. "What did you do?"
Adults rushed over, scooping up the crying baby, shooting disapproving looks at Shaun.
Shaun stared at the screaming infant, unrepentant.
'I see what you did, you little shit. Your mother's got a nice ass, by the way. I'll remember that.'
---
The rest of the party passed in failed attempts. Every time Shaun got close to Miss Brooks, something stopped him. Another guest. Someone picking him up. Miss Brooks moving to another room.
The system notification appeared periodically, reminding him, taunting him.
Shaun sighed.
His eyes drifted to the television in the corner. A children's show was playing. On screen, a baby took his first wobbly steps while cartoon parents cheered.
Shaun stared at the screen.
'That's it.'
A wicked smile spread across his baby face.
He finally had a plan.
Now it was night. Outside, loud voices chanted and laughed, mothers clustered around the patio table with wine and beer. Clara was among them, her shoulders loose in a way they never were at home.
Inside, children lay sprawled across couches and blankets like they'd just finished a war. Some snored, others twitched in their sleep.
In the corner, Shaun stood alone.
Well, not standing. Trying to stand.
His legs trembled, muscles screaming. He gripped the coffee table, pulling himself up inch by agonizing inch. His knees buckled. He caught himself. Tried again.
'Come on.'
He planted his hands on the table edge, fingers gripping hard. Slowly, painfully, he straightened his legs.
One foot planted. Then the other.
He stood.
For three seconds before his legs gave out.
'Again.'
He'd been at this for over an hour. Each attempt was slightly better. His muscles were learning.
This time, five seconds.
Then seven.
Then ten.
On his next attempt, he not only stood but managed to shift his weight forward. His right foot lifted, hovered, came down six inches ahead.
A step.
By eight o'clock, some parents had started leaving. The party was winding down.
Cassandra, Clara, and Miss Brooks came inside with a few other mothers, conversation animated, punctuated by laughter. Miss Brooks swayed slightly as she entered, one hand touching the doorframe. Her wine glass was still in her other hand, liquid sloshing.
"And then—and then she said—" Miss Brooks dissolved into giggles. Her words blurred at the edges. "I can't even... oh god, I'm terrible at telling stories right now."
Clara steadied her. "Maybe water for you next round?"
"Water's boring," Miss Brooks said, smiling. She set the wine glass down with exaggerated care.
They stopped when they entered the living room.
Shaun sat on the floor in front of the television, his back to them, attention locked on the screen. The cartoon baby was still taking wobbly steps.
"You're not sleeping, baby boy?" Cassandra asked.
"He's probably just wired from all the excitement," Clara added.
Miss Brooks laughed. "At least one baby still has energy."
Cassandra started walking toward him. "Come on, sweetie. Let's get you home."
That's when Shaun moved.
He pressed his hands against the floor. Shifted his weight. His butt lifted. His palms flattened against the carpet. Then his legs straightened beneath him.
He stood.
Cassandra froze. "Oh my god."
Clara's hand flew to her mouth. "Is he..."
Miss Brooks blinked. "No way."
Shaun lifted his right foot.
The room exploded.
"OH MY GOD!" Cassandra screamed, reaching for her phone. "He's walking!"
Other mothers pulled out phones, scrambling to capture the moment.
"How is this possible? He's only ten months old!"
Shaun took another step. His arms spread wide, his face screwed up in concentration. Every muscle screamed at him to stop.
But he kept going.
Three more steps, trajectory aimed at Cassandra. She dropped to her knees, arms open, tears streaming.
"Come to mama!"
Shaun stumbled the last foot into her embrace. She caught him, lifting him, spinning him while she sobbed and laughed. "My baby!"
The room erupted in applause.
After forever, she set him down.
Shaun turned, found Clara, started walking again.
Clara knelt. "Come here, Shaun!"
He made it in five shaky steps. She scooped him up, kissing his forehead. "You're amazing!"
When she put him down, Shaun's body was screaming. His legs felt like rubber. But he couldn't stop now.
He turned to face Miss Brooks.
She stood a few feet away, phone in hand, expression soft and unfocused. "Is it my turn now?"
Shaun forced a smile and took a step.
Another. His left leg trembled violently.
Another. His right foot barely lifted.
Three feet away, his body betrayed him. His leg buckled, balance gone.
Miss Brooks lunged forward. Her hands caught him just before he hit. "Whoa! I've got you!"
She lifted him, holding him against her chest. "You're safe now."
Shaun wrapped his arms around her neck and hugged tight, his face pressed against the soft warmth of her shoulder, his body nestled against her breasts.
The excitement continued around them.
Ten minutes passed. Then twenty.
"Shaun, sweetie, it's time to go home," Cassandra finally said, reaching for him.
Shaun's arms tightened around Miss Brooks's neck.
"Come on, baby."
Shaun shook his head, burying his face deeper.
Cassandra's expression shifted. "Shaun?"
Clara tried next. "Come here, little guy."
Shaun refused to budge.
That's when he started crying.
Real tears streamed down his face, sobs that he forced from his lungs. His wails filled the room.
"Shaun!" Cassandra rushed over. "What's wrong?"
He cried harder, arms locked around Miss Brooks's neck.
Miss Brooks looked between Cassandra and the sobbing child. "I don't know what to do."
Cassandra bit her lip. "Miss Brooks, would it be too much trouble if he stayed here until he falls asleep?"
Miss Brooks blinked slowly. "He probably just wants to play with the twins?"
"They're already asleep upstairs," Cassandra said gently. "And... are you sure you're okay?"
Miss Brooks straightened. "I'm fine. He'll probably fall asleep soon anyway."
Clara touched Cassandra's arm. "We can stay if—"
"No, no," Miss Brooks cut in. "Go home. I'll call when he's ready."
Cassandra hesitated, then kissed Shaun's tear-stained cheek. "Mama will be back soon. Be good for Miss Brooks."
She and Clara left, both looking back before disappearing.
The house grew quieter as more guests departed. Soon it was just Miss Brooks, her sleeping twins upstairs, and Shaun.
Shaun's crying had stopped. He stayed nestled against her chest, breathing even.
Miss Brooks carried him to the couch and sat down heavily. She leaned back with a sigh, one hand absently rubbing his back.
"You're a strange little guy," she murmured, words running together. "Walking already."
Her head tilted back, eyes closing.
Shaun felt her body relax, tension leaving her shoulders, breathing deepening.
'Now comes the hard part.'