Whatever happened to that Irish idiot?

...was in the moods for babbies....


When Jojo sang, it was in a way that left people wondering why he'd never pursued a musical career instead of flitting between jobs and never settling on anything.  There was no faulting the 'job' he did for Kate - acting as a personal assistant and keeping her hectic life in order; but it wasn't his calling.  Jojo knew singing; knew acting; knew how to command a stage and a crowd.


But his audience was only of one.


The tiny body held in his arms was no longer in tears, just sniffling as her head rested on his shoulder, eyes heavy lidded and focusing on nothing in the living room Jojo was pacing.  The little girl had a fever and just wasn't sleeping and all the usual techniques her parents had developed just were not working in aiding her drift off into dreamland - so Jojo had scooped the little mite up, strode off downstairs humming to find some tune and song in his head as he descended the stairs.  Once in the living room, he began softly singing silly little nursery rhymes that faltered off into 'lalala's until his brain recalled a song he'd heard earlier that day on the radio.


"The roof is leaking and the wind is howling
Kids are crying 'cos the sheets are so cold
I woke this morning found my hands were frozen
I've tried to fix the fire, but you know the damn thing's too old"

He stroked his hand up and down slowly over the girl's back, singing softly to her, rocking her with gentle motions of his body, pacing around the room, feet scuffling in whispers over the carpet.  He could feel the fever in her small body, under his hands and where her head rested on the bare skin of his shoulder.  He kept his green eyes focused mainly on her, waiting for those sleepy eyes to fall closed.

"It's been months now, since we heard from our Mary,

I wonder if she ever made the coast
She and her young man, they both moved out there
But I sure hope they write, just to let us know"

There was a noise behind him - another body moving in the dark, sluggish and sleepy - and then a voice spoke out. "It's been a while since I heard you sing," Josie whispered.

Jojo turned slowly, still swaying with the baby in his arms.  Josie was framed by the faint light coming from the next room as she stood in the archway between the lounge and the dining, room the kitchen and its lights just visible beyond.  She was leaning, arms folded loosely at her chest in an attempt to keep herself warm.  With the light coming from behind her, the tiredness in her eyes was hidden in shadow, but Jojo knew it was there.  He just grinned back to her, placing a gentle kiss to the top of the baby girl's head.

"I never thought Tal would want to hear me singing, to be honest," he admitted, looking between the two major girls in his life.  Jojo could never quite pin down that moment in his life when it became Josie and only Josie; but it had overwhelmed him so completely that Jojo couldn't face letting her go.  That had been so long ago now but that feeling had never change.  If anything, it had coiled around his heart and if he ever dared to even hazard a thought of living without her, it left a physical pain in his chest.

"What're you singing to her?" she asked sleepily, a yawn breaking through mid sentence.

Jojo shrugged with the shoulder not supporting Tallulah.  "I heard it on the radio this morning, it reminded me a little of the songs I used to hear back in Ireland."  His broad accent had slipped these past few years, becoming obviously Americanized, but in the words still held that musical quality that came with the Irish accent.

The girl's name had been his idea.  Tallulah had been a name he'd adored since he was young, although he never gave an explanation as to why he liked it.  He'd convinced Josie of it because it was unique; it was beautiful; it was so very them.  She'd joked over whether or not the as-of-then unborn baby could have been a boy and what name would he have?  Jojo just shrugged, claiming he was certain it was going to be a girl.  He'd been right, of course, but still.  In truth, he just had no clue what he'd call any son of his.  There had been one point in his life where he thought he'd never be a father anyway and name were of no importance to him.

"I'm going to take her there when she's older," he confessed, still watching her closely.  She looked relaxed and content but not yet willing to fall asleep.  He kept watching how her brown eyes would fall slowly only for her to pull them open again and look at his face.  "Take her to the Giant's Causeway, maybe."  He made no mention of his own parents; Tallulah's grandparents.  They were never too happy about their son's life choices.  They'd flown out a few times to meet their granddaughter (separately, they'd divorced a year after Jojo graduated high school) and it seemed his father had at least calmed down over dictating Jojo's life for him.  They both liked their granddaughter though, so her presence meant that no one started yelling at each other.  They also liked Josie, mainly because in their heads she at least fitted the more 'ideal' woman they had wanted their son to marry.

The only downside was that Jojo never actually married her.

Josie smiled at him, watching how he interacted with the little girl.  he was good with children.  He'd demonstrated his ability with flying colours with Kate's twins, despite his earlier difficulties dealing with the Hearst twins; but he'd been younger then.  He was older now; calmer.  He still styled his hair wildly and dressed like he'd escaped from the circus via a punk revival convention yet it was his personality that was just...softer.  Jojo remarked about it too.  When the obvious thing to do would be to go streaking, Jojo would instead settle for painting himself blue.

Okay, so perhaps the analogy didn't work right, but still, Jojo just knew inside that this role felt right.  That holding this little baby girl and singing to coax her into sleep in order for that fever to go away was just where he was supposed to end up after taking the craziest of routes just to get there.  He'd never become that singer he thought about becoming when he was a kid.  The only person in the world who mattered when it came to his singing talent now was finally drifting off to sleep; and for that Jojo couldn't help but grin like a complete idiot.

A proud idiot.  But an idiot nonetheless.