Just a short one-shot that ambushed me the other night. As the summary implies, it's essentially a follow-up to "Fatherly Advice," though you should have no trouble understanding it even if you haven't read that story first.

Disclaimer: As ever, Kim and Ron are Disney's, not mine- but I love 'em anyway.

Ron Stoppable had never really believed in love at first sight. After all, it had taken him 12 years to recognize that the woman he was meant to spend his life with had been right in front of him the whole time.

But, as if to show that she was determined right from the start to make her mother's motto every bit her own, the tiny form cradled in his arms had gone and proven him wrong. The moment she had come screaming and squalling into the world, Ron had been lost.

He had promptly memorized her "stats" and repeated them to anyone who would listen: 6 pounds, 9 ounces, 17-and-a-half inches, 10 fingers, 10 toes. Around his 19th recitation, he had caught Kim rolling her eyes at him. He'd patiently explained to her that this was how men showed affection for those they admired most—like baseball players and babies.

Now he was holding all 6 pounds, 9 ounces of Megan Kimberly Stoppable and staring down at her in awe. Blue-grey eyes stared just as wonderingly up at him. He and Kim had already argued playfully over whether they would turn green or brown—as well as whether the downy layer of blondish hair covering her head would darken as it grew. Other attributes were easier to identify. Ron's nose. Kim's ears (thank goodness). Her lungs. His appetite.

Keeping her tight against his chest with one hand, he reached up with the other and ran one finger down her impossibly soft little cheek. A tiny fist shot up and wrapped tightly around his finger, and Ron's breath caught in his throat.

Something he had said once, years ago, came flying back to him: "Why are people always impressed by a baby's grip anyway?"

Now he knew why.

Because it's a miracle.

The End