Author's Note: This fanfic is pretty much impossible for a number of reasons: the first being, Aaron isn't nearly old enough to talk yet. The second, by the time he is old enough, Charlie would already be…you know. But who really cares since it's Charlie and Claire fluff? ;)

Disclaimer: No way, man. But even if I don't own Lost, I have written more oneshots that I can just tell you want to read. Because they're little purple review buttons are lonely (speaking of which, doesn't this little purple button look a little lonely as well?). Something to think about…

"Da-Da"

-xXx-

Turniphead was crying when Charlie approached the tent where his cradle was; Claire was nearby, also aware of her baby's wails. She looked up from where she was washing clothes, preparing to go to him. Charlie raised a hand to get her attention and shook his head. "I got him," he said, "don't worry."

Claire smiled her thanks and went back to her work. Charlie grinned down at the baby. "Hey, there, Aaron," he said cheerfully, picking up the crying child. He rocked Turniphead (because he would always be that to Charlie) gently on his shoulder, murmuring soothingly in his ear like any mother could do.

"Ssh, it's okay. Charlie's here." It amazed him how much his life had changed since Claire and the baby—anyone who knew him before would be shocked to hear that the only way Charlie Pace wanted to spend his time was taking care of another man's child.

Not that he considered that other man Aaron's father. He wasn't here, doing the things Charlie did. He had chickened out, he had left. Charlie and Claire were the two taking care of him, together, his parents. And that seemed to be working just fine for the little boy who loved them and was loved by them in return.

Aaron's crying grew quieter, until slowly it ceased all together. Charlie continued making "ssh"-ing noises to him even after he was silent and still, watching the people around him go about their business. He sat down in one of the chairs in his tent-home, trying to lull Aaron to sleep.

But Turniphead's eyes refused to close. He stared up at the man holding him, his little hands in fists and kicking about, a toothless grin on his mouth. As Charlie smiled at him, he made a small gurgling sound. And then…

"Da-da!"

Were he anymore surprised, Charlie would have likely dropped the baby. He stood up instantly though, as if the word had pushed him out of his seat. "Claire!" he bellowed, clutching her son to his chest so he didn't actually drop him. She looked up at him, startled. "Quick, come here! I think Aaron just said his first word!"

Her frightened expression melted away, replaced at once with the greatest of joy. She dropped the clothes she'd been holding, closing the few yards between them in an instant. "Really?" she asked breathlessly, taking Aaron from Charlie's arms. "What was it, what did he say? Oh, Charlie!" She looked excited, more so than a child at Christmas.

"I don't know exactly, it was hard to tell." Charlie was surprised to find that he was breathless and that his cheeks were aching because he was grinning so widely. This was as great a moment for him as it was for Claire.

Claire was still smiling as she placed Aaron in his cradle and leaned over him lovingly. Charlie gazed at the baby over her shoulder. Turniphead's eyes were wide and big, which went well with his ear-to-ear grin. He gurgled again like he had before, and said more clearly this time, "Da-da!"

Claire made a sound that highly resembled a squeal and turned to Charlie, laughing. "He did! He said his first word!" She hugged him in her excitement, startling him a bit, but he just laughed and returned the gesture. She pulled back, her beautiful blue eyes shining. "He said 'da-da', didn't he? Like daddy?"

They looked back down at Aaron, surprise and delighted. "Da-da," he said a third time, his baby smile still wide on his face. "Da-da." It was unmistakable: he was looking right at Charlie as he spoke.

Suddenly, Charlie felt very awkward.

Claire stared at him, and Charlie couldn't tell if she was still delighted, or if she was angry with him, as if this was his fault somehow. "Well," he began, grinning sheepishly to lighten the mood. Claire's unreadable expression didn't change. His smile faded and, clearing his throat, he looked down so he wouldn't have to meet her gaze.

"Charlie…"

"Listen, Claire, I had no idea—" He hated that he was trying to explain away what Aaron had said. Personally, he was delighted that the child thought of him as his father.

Claire acted like she hadn't heard him.

"Charlie…,"she said again.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I'm so sorry that he—that Aaron thinks—" But he couldn't finish, because he didn't want to lie to her, and he was not sorry that Turniphead called him daddy. Not even in the slightest.

Claire looked exasperated at his incessant babbling, and she placed a finger to his lips in a wordless sign for silence, shocking him so much he shut up immediately.

"Charlie," she said again, firmer this time, her gaze so intense he couldn't break it. He wondered if she would look intimidating, if she weren't smiling so widely.

Wait… Charlie's brows knitted together, confused. Why was she grinning?

"Thank you," she said, looking from him to Aaron. Her face lit up. "He called you 'da-da', and I can't tell you how much that means to me." She lowered her finger from his mouth.

Charlie was even more confused. "So," he began slowly, "you're not…mad or insulted or anything?" A slow smile of his own started to appear, growing when Claire laughed delightedly and shook her head.

And then without another word she was leaning toward him, kissing him lightly on the lips. It wasn't their first kiss, but every time she started one, it threw Charlie off for a minute to have her lips touching his. She always tasted so sweet. The kiss lasted a few more seconds, and then she pulled away, looking at him lovingly.

"Thank you," she repeated.

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Er…for what, exactly?" His head was still spinning from the kiss, not quite sure what he done to deserve it or her thanks. Not that he was complaining.

She laughed softly and gazed down at baby Aaron, looking thoughtful. Finally, just when Charlie thought she wasn't even going to give him an answer, Claire looked back up at him and smiled warmly.

"You gave my baby a dad, Charlie."