September 14, 2022

"Mama, when are you planning to talk to my father about custody?" Noah asks at the counter the next morning while eating the scrambled eggs Nataley had made for him. At Noah's feet, Chuck sits quietly, his eyes on the boy, waiting for food to drop at which point he will pounce.

Harry had spent much of the night wondering about the custody talk, amongst many other conjectures. Neither he nor Nat had slept well based on the amount of tossing and turning. Maybe it was the different bed that caused them to lose sleep and not the myriad of deep conversations that had happened over the last four days. And here they are, smack in the middle of one more serious discussion -- before he'd even finished his morning coffee.

"Saturday, sweets," she smiles, brushing Noah's bangs from his face. "I would do it today, but I want to give him some warning."

Why? It wasn't like the Cheater cared about Noah. Harry sighs. It's not his call, but damn. It would be really great to dive into the topic and get an answer sooner rather than later. Chuck, giving up on Noah, pads over to Harry, sitting and watching him carefully as Harry eats a piece of toast.

"Yeah, okay," the boy grumbles, "but you know he wouldn't give you any warning."

Shit. The kid is on fire today.

Nataley presses a kiss to her son's head, "Which is probably why I'm me and not your father."

Ouch. Truth.

Noah's shoulders deflate, maybe at the thought of having to spend the next three days with his arsehole of a father. Rising, Harry ruffles the boy's hair. "Finish your breakfast, and we'll have a jam session."

Head whipping around fast enough to make his eyes spin like a cartoon, Noah narrows his eyes, "Really, Papa?"

"Yep," Harry smiles at the new name, a warm glow in the vicinity of his heart. "You need to practice your three chords and build up your calluses."

"But Papa...can't I take my guitar to my father's?"

The 'father' term had replaced 'dad' about the same time that 'H' had been supplanted by 'Papa', and Harry couldn't bring himself to feel even one ounce of sympathy for Duane. He'd brought this on himself.

"Noah..." Harry started only to be interrupted.

"I would take good care of it!"

"And your father" -- might as well use the current preferred noun -- "would be angry and jealous."

"Oh." The 11-year-old's dejected demeanor made Harry chuckle. The cavachon, Prince Charles, danced around Harry's feet until Nataley opened the kitchen door and allowed the dog to run around, peeing on everything and snapping at butterflies and other insects.

"One of the most important things you can do is train your ear," the musician smiles, "so we'll put an app on your iPad where you can work on intervals, scales, and chords. There's also rhythm training. That way, you can plug in your headphones and practice music without your father knowing that's what you're doing."

"Cool! Thanks, Papa!"

This 'papa' thing brought a silly smile to Harry's face every single time, and he didn't think he'd ever get over hearing Noah using the new name.

"Now finish your breakfast, and I'll show you how to use the app, and we can practice your three chords for a few minutes."

With a grin, Noah shovels the rest of the eggs in his mouth at once, chewing frantically. "I'm ready," he says between the chomping of his teeth. Rising from the stool, he starts walking towards the music room.

"Noah..." Harry warns, pointing to the dish remaining on the counter, the remnants of the egg a pale yellow memory.

"Okay, Papa!" Quickly, the boy carries his plate and fork to the dishwasher, placing both inside before shutting the door with a bang.

Over Noah's head, Harry catches Nataley's eye as she leans against the opposite counter, sipping her coffee with a soft smile tilting up the corners of her mouth.

"That new name is going to be worn out before we leave the house this morning," she teases.

"Give him a break, Nat. He's got 11 years to make up for."

They grin at each other before the emotion in Harry's body swells up, causing him to stalk across the room, gripping her chin with his thumb and forefinger before crashing his mouth onto hers. The taste of coffee is heady as she thrusts her tongue past his lips, enjoying the contact as much as he is. He finds himself lost as always, relishing her flavours. Fuck. If he could have this every morning for the rest of his life, he'd be the happiest man in the world. And he'd never once take it -- or her -- for granted.

His thoughts as they emerge are about the ring in the side pocket of his duffel bag. If she knew how serious he was about marriage, would anything change? The permanence of the tattoo seemed to grab her attention, although that hadn't been his purpose. What might the ring do?

Weaving her fingers through his, Nataley draws both of their hands to her bum as her eyes flutter open and she gazes at him.

"Let's make a pact, H," she whispers, "No serious talk for a full 24 hours. Nothing but fun."

As quickly as a brown hare darting into the brush, Harry agrees. "I love that idea. We've got dinner with Stevie tonight, so let's just relax and have fun. Enjoy our staycation."

"Perfect," she grins, releasing his hands.

Which he uses to squeeze her arse just as Noah calls to him. "Papa! I'm ready!"

Nataley heads for the kitchen door as Chuck whines and then barks in his impatience. He's not used to having a yard to roam free. Harry wonders if the dog will get used to the elegance of having his own space around the same time that Nataley and Noah have to return to their condo.

----------

The car horn at the front of the house startles Harry from his focus on the app he and Noah had been exploring. Chuck, startled from where he'd been lying at their feet, jumps up and begins barking.

"Hush, Chuck!" Nataley admonishes to no effect. The dog is not used to this environment, and things that might not affect him at home seem to upset him here.

Hey, little man," Harry states as he rises, "Do me a favor please?"

"Anything, Papa!"

"Don't antagonize your father."

"What does that mean?"

"It would be easy for you to be flippant with him this week. Not follow his directions. Say mean things to him. Remind him that he's not your favourite person. But that would be counterproductive, mate. You know what I mean?"

Noah scratches his head, peering up at Harry. "You mean, if I piss him off, then he won't want to listen to Mama on Saturday?"

"Something like that, yeah."

"Okay, Papa. I'll be good. Quiet as a mouse." With his fingers, the boy pretends to zip and lock his lips.

"Thanks, Noah. It won't be easy, but it might make a difference."

"Okay," the boy mumbles. "I'll miss you."

"You can text me, silly," Harry reminds him.

"Yeah, but it's not the same."

"And you'll see me again in just a few days. Plus you can watch the show -- just not live! You need your sleep."

"I forgot you're on TV, Papa! I'll watch. I promise."

"You know what? I'll send you a signal to remind you I love you."

"Really?"

"Sure! I'll scratch my nose just like I did on tour. When you see me doing that, know that it's a sign of how much I love you."

"Thanks, Papa!" Noah grabs Harry around the waist as Ben honks out front again.

Hugging the boy, Harry releases him and grabs his handbag from the kitchen table while Chuck jumps onto his leg, begging for pats.

"Hey! That's mine," Nat calls, and he twists to see her holding out a different bag. "Yours is the expensive one, and mine is the Target knock off."

Quickly, Harry checks to make sure his handbag has his essentials in it: phone charger, lip balm, sunscreen, sunnies, wallet. Satisfied, he scratches behind Chuck's ears.

"Thanks, love." Capturing her lips, he pulls away as the third car horn sounds. "See you at work."

With a wave and a blown kiss, Harry emerges through the front door to a lawn filled with large herb plants and a dirt pathway to the gate. In the driver's seat, Ben taps his watch, and Harry laughs as he opens the passenger door.

"Mate, I'm the star. It's okay if I'm late. Besides, the lighting designer is barely dressed."

"Mhm." Placing the car in gear, Ben pulls away from the curb. "How was the house? Everything you needed?"

"And more. I owe Gabe." Buckling his seat belt, Harry grows quiet while Ben accelerates in the direction of the next cross street.

"You okay, H?" The executive producer glances at Harry, but focuses back on the roads of Santa Monica.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Just..." Biting his lip, Harry watches the houses pass them by.

"You know, I knew you and Nat were right for each other that very first day in 2015 when she brought you back from the gym where you were playing dodgeball."

"Really?" Harry's head whips towards his friend.

"She's always been there for you, and she never gave a shit that you're a celebrity. Like it didn't even register with her. Not then. Not now."

"Yeah. That's part of the issue."

"Your celebrity? Well, I can see how it might interrupt a love affair."

"Ben..." Harry cautions as his friend moves closer to the painful truth.

"Mate, you've never wanted to talk about the issue with Nataley, and it pisses me off."

"Ben?" His longtime friend had never said anything like this before.

"I don't mean always, but it does now. Like, you both have people who care about you as individuals and as a couple. But you've never unburdened yourself and shared the problem. Don't you know that there are plenty of us that would bend over backwards for you and Nataley? And Noah?"

Shaking his head, Harry starts to make an excuse, "You wouldn't understand..."

"Bullshit, mate. I've watched your relationship with Nataley grow for years. You're soul mates in the truest sense of the word. I'm in the business too, so I know what it's like to be a celebrity. Try sharing your challenges, H. You might find they aren't as bad as you perceive them to be."

Tongue-tied, Harry opens and closes his mouth several times. What would it hurt to bring Ben into his confidence? Shaking his head, he recalls that Nat is fiercely protective of their privacy.

"I can't, Ben. Nat would kill me."

"Fine." The producer's jaw tightens. "Then what the hell is this playing house about? What are you hoping to accomplish?"

Acid churns in Harry's stomach at the question. Ben always did get directly to the heart of the matter. He watches as the jaw belonging to the father of his goddaughter jumps with the tension of the question.

"You really like Nat, don't you?" Harry asks curiously.

"Like her? You arse! She's bloody amazing, and I'm pissed off that no matter how hard over the years I've thrown you two together, you can't seem to get on the same page. Even when you were together, you weren't really together! Bloody hell, H. She's the best thing that has ever happened to you -- and I'm including XFactor in that statement -- and you just keep fucking it up."

The pain and hurt that leaks into Ben's voice twists Harry's heart, and he has to take several deep breaths as he observes the scenery on the drive passing him in a blur even though their speed is stop and go.

"I plan to marry her," Harry quietly announces.

The car swerves slightly before Ben takes control of the steering wheel again. "WHAT?"

"Look, I agree with you one hundred percent. She is absolutely the person for me. I love her wholly. Completely. She and Noah together are as much my family as Mum and Gemma. Fuck, Ben. I've been carrying around the perfect engagement ring for years."

"Oh" is the only sound that escapes Ben's mouth.

"Please believe me when I tell you I'm working hard to make my dreams a reality this time, but there are forces beyond my control that are getting in the way for us. This is my shot, and I'm not taking it lightly. The fact that she agreed to stay at Gabe's house is miraculous. I've seen movement from her towards a future that will work, but I need time, Ben. I need..."

"What?" his friend asks.

"I just need people to back off. To not make a big deal of things right now. It's tense enough without the outside pressure. But you should know that my goal is to make Nataley my wife, Noah my son, and then get busy building an even bigger family."

"Oh."

"Let me do this my way. I swear that I'll call on you if I need something you can provide."

Ben flips his turn signal before entering the CBS Studios, rolling down his window and holding out his ID for the guard to scan. In silence, he parks the vehicle before placing his hand on the door's handle.

"H? I'm going to trust that you're not going to fuck this up this time. You have to know that Mer and I are on your side. And if forcing James to be unavailable for an additional week is necessary to make this happen for you, I'm confident I can convince him."

Harry laughs without any joy. "I really appreciate how my friends all believe I'm the one who fucked things up."

With one foot out of the car, Ben twists to the celebrity. "If we're wrong about that, I apologize. Sincerely."

Harry considers the words and the sentiment before reaching for his own door handle, but he doesn't pull it. Instead, he fixes his gaze on the executive producer, the man with whom he'd lived for 18 months during the height of One Direction's popularity.

"I wasn't perfect, mate, but the situation wasn't something I caused or could control. Still isn't. I'd do damn near anything for Nataley. Except giving up music."

"She'd never ask you to do that."

"No. She wouldn't." Exiting the car, Harry grasps his handbag before closing the door and joining Ben at the back of the vehicle. "But it might be one of the only things that would solve the problems between us."

With that cryptic comment, Harry stalks towards the studio, mentally preparing himself for another day of joke-writing and interviewing his newest guests.