Tora's pregnancy is only just beginning to show, but she wants to go shopping, so Guy, being a dutiful husband and father-to-be, takes her to the Babyland Baby Superstore early on a Saturday morning when he would rather be sleeping in.

"Do they sell babies?" he wants to know, hands shoved in his pockets and face firmly set in pout-mode as they round up a shopping cart and head inside.

"Don't be silly. Of course they don't."

"Well it don't say 'Baby Stuff Superstore'. It says 'Baby Superstore'. And 'Babyland' don't sound like any kind of country I wanna visit. I bet it smells."

He doesn't understand the special brand of logic that makes women insist on shopping early in the morning on a weekend -- as near as he's been able to tell, the prices are pretty much the same -- but Tora has been moody lately, and he knows that if he doesn't bow to her will, she'll probably cry to Bea and then later he'll have not one but two angry women on his case.

What he won't admit, however, is that Tora isn't the only one being moody, and today, he's feeling particularly bratty. "Can we at least get him one of those neat racks for his karate belts?"

She turns to look at him. "Guy."

"A football? You know what a head start he'll get by just gettin' a feel for the ball right from the start?"

"And what if he's actually a she?"

"Sure, castrate my son in the womb, why don'tcha?"

"Do you want to wait in the car?"

He doesn't, and mumbles something to that effect.

Tora wants to look at cribs, which only pisses him off further, because they've already argued about it four times. Guy wants to build one himself, with his own two hands. Tora doesn't think he has any practical carpentry experience. He reminds her that he did make a B-minus in high school shop class, thank you very much. She says that she's happy he's so willing to be involved with the baby, but she'd rather not put their child down to sleep in something that's high school shop class quality, let alone B-minus high school shop class quality.

It hurts his feelings, even though he knows she's probably right. It's just that this whole father thing has him feeling so... helpless. He made the baby, sure, and he's damn proud of that fact. But since then, he hasn't been able to do much. When Tora gets sick, Guy can't do anything right. He can't cook breakfast because it makes her sicker, he can't give her anything to make it go away, and he can't even comfort her because she doesn't feel like being comforted, at least not in his usual awkward way. She asks for his opinions on furnishing the nursery, but even though she doesn't usually come out and say that she doesn't like his choices, he can tell by the look on her face that she doesn't agree with his decorating ideas. When they go to the doctor, all he can do is hold Tora's hand. The doctor doesn't even talk to him -- he talks to Tora, and occasionally acknowledges Guy's presence to tell him things like "No, my job does not give me a sexual thrill" and "I'm a professional, Mr. Gardner, I assure you I'm not trying to 'cop a feel' on your wife" and "If you don't wait outside, I'm calling security".

He can't even help carry the baby, and though he'll never admit it, he almost wishes he could, just so he would be helping in some way, any way! So when she goes to the crib section, Guy disappears, hands still in his pockets, and looks for something that looks like it would be useful to have so that he can convince her that they need it and therefore prove that he, too, can be helpful when it comes to babies.

Thirty minutes later, a sales associate has kindly asked him to stop pushing all the music buttons on the swings at once, and then asked him, not quite as kindly, to stop testing out the strollers for maximum speed, traction, and aerodynamics. When she catches him snoozing in the toddler racecar bed, she threatens to throw him out of the store. So he shuffles off, pouting again, and hides in the clothing section, glaring over the racks at the cashiers (except for that pretty one who looks like she might be legal -- he smiles at her).

Babies wear clothes, right? He brightens a bit when he realizes that Tora loves baby clothes and already has a few pretty gender-neutral onesies stored away in anticipation of the big day when they bring the baby home. He desperately wants to know the sex of the baby, but Tora wants it to remain a surprise, so it looks like he isn't going to know what he's getting until it gets here, which bothers him a little because he thinks it would be easier to get used to the idea of being a father if he could better imagine an actual baby rather than just a vague baby-shaped idea.

A little blue jumper with "Daddy's Little All-Star" across the front catches his eye, and he grins. Of course his child is going to be naturally gifted at sports... along with everything else, of course. He may not know much about babies, but he knows a lot about children who are old enough to walk and talk, and he already knows exactly how he's planning on teaching his child so that he grows up all Doogie Howser. Well, Doogie Howser, only less of a dork and more of a football star as well as a doctor (and also a lawyer -- nothing wrong with cross-training, as Guy sees it). He isn't thrilled about baby blue being the color his son is doomed to wear because he doesn't see anything particularly masculine about it, but at least boy clothes have footballs and trains and little dump trucks on them. He doesn't think he could stomach seeing girl clothes around his house, with their flowers and butterflies and kittens and all that. And pink makes his eyes hurt. He glances towards the girls' clothing racks and then loses that thought as something else catches his eye.

It's a teeny-tiny dress, fit for a newborn or something barely larger, and it somehow stands out among the sea of pink around it. Of course it's also pink, with short sleeves, but that's all he can tell about it even when he moves closer, because there's so much lace on it that he can't make out any other details. Lace on the sleeves, lace all over the skirt, lace around the hem, tiny little silk flowers sewn down the front and at various points along the skirt -- it's the most sickeningly over-the-top feminine thing he's ever seen. It's hideous.

And Guy loves it.

For the first time, he gets a clear picture in his head of his baby, and she's a beautiful little angel, and she's wearing that dress. His chest tightens, as if the sudden happiness that wells up in him is too much for it to contain, and yet he feels all soft and squishy inside because there's no other way to describe it. If it were possible for cartoon hearts to appear above his head, now would be the time -- and he quickly clamps down on that thought and brushes it away, lest the ring interpret it as something he wants to happen.

He snatches the dress off the rack and creeps off looking for Tora.

As luck would have it, Tora has made her way to the nursery decorations and has gotten herself distracted talking to another pregnant woman. Perfect. He peeks around the corner and then, when he's sure they aren't looking, he snakes a long green arm along the floor and slips the dress into the cart.

"Guy will be a great father no matter what," Tora is saying, "But I really think he'll be disappointed if it isn't a boy."

Guy sneaks off again to see what other gems he can find in the pink section.