He had no experience with children, did not know how to relate to them, how to handle them.... anything about them, and yet he would do everything he could to protect this small child. All ready, at only a few days old, Sarah was aware of him. She responded to his voice, to his touch, and let him know he was and always would be so very important to her. He wanted nothing to harm her, wanted to protect her from the cruel, harsh realities of the world, yet knew he would fail miserably. If she were to grow, mature, become a strong woman, she could not be completely protected and shielded from the world. She would have to experience it, yet he promised himself he would always be there for her when she needed him, no matter what the cause. Perhaps he could not protect her and shelter her from the world as he would like, but he would always love her ... always, not only because of the way she made him feel, but because she had nearly been denied life before ever taking her first breath.

Sarah was a child of their later years, an unexpected creation whose birth had been extremely difficult, for both mother and child. The pain filled cries still echoed in his ears and he closed them off, not wanting to dwell on it. Both mother and daughter would be fine, and he vowed he would do his very best to protect them both, love them both.... always.

Feeling someone behind him, Barnabas blinked and took his eyes from Sarah, smiling and reaching out a hand to his wife.

"Julia, should you be out of bed?"

"I'm fine, Barnabas."

He studied her eyes then nodded and drew her to him, arms wrapping about her in love, protection and support.

"You were so quiet, standing here. Is anything wrong?"

Julia bent over to check her sleeping child, her eyes reflecting the uncertain worry of a first time mother and the clinical concern of a physician.

"She's just fine, Julia, sleeping soundly, as you should be."

"Barnabas..."

He silenced her protests with a shake of his head, turned Julia around and walked her back to their bed, assisting her into it, then tucking the covers around her. He sat beside his wife and took her hands. His eyes were soft and distant.

"Barnabas, what is it?"

He blinked again, glanced over his shoulder at his sleeping daughter, then met Julia's eyes lovingly.

"I was remembering the first time I stood over my new little sister, wondering and contemplating what the role of a big brother should be, worrying about her future... experiencing emotions so totally new to me I had no idea what they were or what they could do to me... Just now, watching our Sarah... I felt the same things, but so much more strongly, more intensely than... anything I have ever felt before."

Julia smiled as she curled her fingers about his.

"I know..."

He met her eyes, realizing Julia was also experiencing these new emotions. He smiled and shook his head.

"She has captivated me, Julia. All ready she is a little charmer."

"I believe she gets that from her father... Barnabas, she will grow to a fine, healthy, beautiful, intelligent young woman. We both will see to that."

His eyes clouded slightly, considering all the dark possibilities - natural or otherwise - which could interfere with their plans, then shook his head, not wanting to dwell on them.

"I know she will, Julia."

His voice was firm, determined, and she brought his hand up to place a gentle kiss on the back of it. Barnabas nodded as their eyes met in understanding, then bent over and kissed his wife tenderly.

"You had best rest again, Julia. She will soon be awake and hungry."

Julia Hoffman Collins nodded and sighed, settling under the covers. Barnabas sat beside her until she slept, then he stood, kissed her cheek and left her bedside.

He walked back to stand beside his daughter's cradle, eyes watching, senses alert. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"Watch over her for your big brother, Sarah, please. Help me to not fail her as I failed you."

He bent over and placed a gentle kiss on his daughter's head, adjusted the blanket over her shoulder, then left the room to allow both his ladies a peaceful rest. As he closed the bedroom door, Barnabas' human hearing did not detect the soft notes of the song "London Bridge" as they drifted through the air, a child's voice echoing through the rooms and hallways of the Old House, bridging the generations.