Work Text:
Fidel's daughter was the tiniest living creature that Richard had ever held. Despite his nervousness and the way her head was turned away from him, he could see that she appeared to be healthy and whole. Beauty, perhaps, would come with time, but he would be the first admit he was no judge of that when it came to children. His experiences with them were severely limited and almost exclusively work related. He was far from being infatuated with the child the way everyone else seemed to be though he did feel a strange sense of pride. Given that he had nothing to do with her creation or birth it was a bit disconcerting. Then again everything on this bloody island had conspired to put him off balance and out of his comfort zone so why should the addition of a single small person be any different?