Jack stands in the doorway to the nursery, watches in silence. Bitty is rocking their little girl in his arms, his body gently swaying in the way that people just seem to do when trying to settle an upset baby or rock one to sleep. Amelie had been crying when he’d arrived home, still only a few months old. He hadn’t expected Bits to hear him approach. She’s quiet now and he can hear Bitty singing;
“Darling baby, darling baby. Go to sleep, go to sleep. Sweet dreams of pie and hockey, sweet dreams of pie and hockey. Go to sleep, go to sleep.”
Jack grins and enters the room, slipping his arms around them both, swaying with them.
“Those aren’t the right words...” he murmurs quietly, still grinning.
“They are for her...”
Jack hums, because he has a point. They are perfect for her.
(The tune is Frere Jacques)
