AN: So here we are. After all the drama these two have been through in this AU, they've finally reached domestic bliss (well, their kind of domestic bliss). Hope you enjoy this little peek into their future. It's not too crack-y, but as you'll see, it is a bit of a comedy of errors. Rather than having one monstrous chapter I've divided it into several shorter ones, but they should be posted pretty quickly. And for people who like the playlists, there will be one!

In case you're wondering: yes, I came up with the title first and basically built the premise around it. For those who may not know, Two and A Half Men is a kind of terrible American sitcom (it had Charlie Sheen as its main talent for a while) and Three Men and a Baby is a kind of terrible—but also awesome—'80s movie.

February 1999

"I'm not sure this is such a good idea."

Two steps from the door, Edith sags. "Sybil. You were fine with this two weeks ago. You were fine with it last week. You—"

"But Tom's arm wasn't broken last week," Sybil interrupts, fiddling with the strap on her handbag. "And Siobhan's been awfully fussy the past few days. It could be colic, and I'd hate to—"

"We've got it under control, love," Tom says from under the baby, who's asleep on his chest. "Have a good time." He raises his good hand to shoo the women out.

"I don't know." Sybil wavers, leaning towards her husband and daughter as though there's an invisible thread connecting her to the rocking chair.

"It's not as if Tom's all on his own," Matthew points out, lifting his eyes from Siobhan's sleeping face for the first time since he sat down. "He's got me and Anthony here to help him."

Sybil smiles. "I know what you're trying to do, and it's lovely of you." Her gaze shifts from Matthew to Anthony. "Only I don't think you realize just what you're in for. Have either of you even taken care of a baby before?"

"My sister has three boys," Anthony says.

Sybil is not convinced. "I'm not sure that's quite the same thing."

"Sybil, darling." Mary takes her sister's elbow firmly; her tone is kind, but it's plain that she will stand for no shilly-shallying. "I realize it's the first time you've left Siobhan, and I mean what I'm about to say in the nicest way possible, but I will get you out of this flat tonight if I have to knock you on the head and carry you over my shoulder."

Sybil presses her lips together and sighs, defeated. "Fine. I suppose you're right."

"Of course I'm right," Mary replies, her raised eyebrow saying Aren't I always?

Sybil crosses the room to brush her fingertips once more over the baby's fragile head, lightly covered in dark-brown fuzz, and to press a kiss to Tom's cheek. He turns his head to give her another light one on the lips. "Thanks for doing this, darling," she whispers.

"Don't mention it. You can use a night out."

"I'll have to return the favor sometime." Her eyes flick down at his injured right arm. "When you're better, that is."

"Oh, I dunno, the cast might be good for a free drink or two," Tom replies, and they both laugh. Siobhan's small face puckers at the disturbance and he winces and goes still until she settles again. "Better go while the going's good," he tells Sybil under his breath.

She turns back just before stepping over the threshold. "I've left three bottles in the fridge. Top shelf. There's more milk in the freezer if you need it."

Tom smiles indulgently. "You mean, where it's been since you put it in there the other day?"

"And don't forget to burp her after a feed, or she'll—"

"Love, I didn't get brain damage when I fell off my bicycle. I remember how to feed a baby." An edge creeps into his voice, but he banishes it with his next words. "Don't worry about a thing. We'll be fine."

"I hope she'll take a bottle," Sybil mutters as her sisters usher her into the hall.

Tom relaxes visibly as soon as the door closes behind them. "God, I thought they weren't going to be able to get her to go."

Matthew nods. "It was touch and go there for a minute."

"Edith and Mary handled that quite well, I thought," Anthony says, and twitches aside the curtain to peer down at the pavement. "They've gone," he reports after a couple of minutes.

Siobhan begins whimpering and for a moment it looks like Tom will have to figure out a way to get up and walk with her, but in the end he's able to calm her with a bit of shushing and back-rubbing. He settles back again, trying to find somewhere comfortable to rest the plaster cast; it makes his arm unwieldy, cartoonishly oversized. It bumps against the wooden arm of the chair and he grimaces. "Could someone go into the kitchen and get me the pill bottle that's on the worktop? And a glass of water, please."

"You haven't taken the painkillers for your arm?" Matthew looks properly horrified.

"Not since this morning. I was afraid Sybil wouldn't go out if I seemed fogged up, but I think I'm about ready to start crying myself."

"Good God," Anthony murmurs, heading into the kitchen. They hear cabinets opening and closing as he searches for a glass.

Tom flexes his shoulder and winces. "Fuc... I mean, bloody hel... I mean..." He blows an irritated breath through his nostrils. "Aitken," he snaps. The disgraced MP's name has been in the news lately with his guilty plea, and it's the first thing that comes to mind in lieu of a more satisfying expletive.

Matthew breaks into loud laughter, making the baby flinch in her sleep. He snaps his mouth shut with a chastened look. "So you're really not swearing anymore?"

"I figure I'll have trained myself out of it by the time she's old enough to know what's going on." Tom shakes his head with a sheepish grin. "I don't know why I bother, though, with Sybil around." He nods down at his daughter. "This one'll end up teaching all the other kids in crèche how to say fuck this and cocksucker that no matter what I do."

Anthony has returned with the magic pills just in time to hear Tom's last words. "Sybil? Really? But she seems so nice..."

"She is," says Matthew, who has seen his sister-in-law in many more unguarded moments than Anthony has. "Only she sometimes likes to express herself in a rather colorful way."

"She's got a mouth on her like a sailor. Can't seem to break her of it." Tom shakes his head again, trying to suppress the smile tugging at his mouth.

Anthony's brow furrows a bit. "How very surprising."

- to be continued -