Bring Him Home: Chapter 2
Nov. 6th, 2010 09:56 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
galadriel1010Title: Bring Him Home
Chapter Title: Chapter 2
Challenge/Fest: Schmoop_bingo - Card 3
Prompt: Friendships
Rating: G
Dedication:
Summary: One of Jack's missions has gone badly wrong, and Ianto has had to go to be with him, leaving 18-year-old Mica to babysit her young cousins and keep them distracted.
Characters: Mica Davies, Andrew Harkness-Jones, Mirabelle Harkness-Jones, Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, mentions of other canon and non-canon family
Contains: Fluff, family and friendship, cookies, a kitchen disaster, cricket and children.
Disclaimer: Torchwood and its environs, occurrences and persons belong to the BBC. The original characters have disowned me.
The one disadvantage Mica found with babysitting her cousins for long periods was that she did not do mornings, and they did. Like everyone else in her family, and like Belle probably would, she had grown out of mornings in her mid-teens and now preferred to be woken in the afternoon, if at all. Jack, of course, rose at dawn, Belle was still young enough that they didn't know which parent she took after, and Andrew had either learned it from Jack or inherited it from his biological parents, whoever they were.
Right now, Belle and Andrew were on the end of Mica's bed armed with pillows and wicked grins. “I'm not awake enough to modulate my language,” she growled, “and Ianto will kill me if I teach you to swear.”
Andrew smiled, although it was completely ruined by the look of cunning in his eyes and the pillow hanging from his hands. “You shouldn't swear anyway, Mica. It's naughty.”
“I am naughty,” she pointed out, trying to edge away from them and burrow further under the duvet. “I'll be a bad influence on you, so stay away.”
“But Mica,” Belle whined, “I'm hungry.”
She burrowed her head into the pillow a moment longer, then sat up and tangled her hand in her messy hair, yawning and stretching. “Hit me with those pillows and you can get your own breakfasts, okay?”
“Okay!”
Dear God, did the child really need to use so many exclamation marks so early in the morning? She'd always had an excess of them, in Mica's opinion. Yawning, she dragged herself out of bed and looked down at her bare legs, shorts just visible under the baggy T shirt she wore. “Okay kids, scram. I'm gonna get dressed, then I'll see you in the kitchen. Slippers both of you.”
She changed into her underused but comfortable jogging bottoms and matching hoody, disinclined to get dressed properly when she had no intention of even leaving the house, and hunted her slippers out from under the bed. Down in the kitchen, when she got there, Andrew was standing on a chair to get in the cupboard. “Andrew, down,” she snapped, her voice losing some of the strength she wanted it to have in a scared wobble. She hurried over and helped him down, then squeezed his shoulder. “Just because Jack and Ianto aren't here, that doesn't mean that their rules don't apply, okay?”
“I'm sorry, Mica.” His lower lip trembled, but he tried to hide it and meet her eyes.
“Andrew...” She sighed and hugged him. “We don't want you getting hurt. What would happen if you fell? You'd crack your head open on the counter, and you're not Jack.”
“Sorry, Mica.”
“I know you are,” she pushed him away and put the chair back at the table, giving Belle a stern glance. “Next time, don't encourage him. Or try to discourage him, even. What were you looking for?”
“The cereal.”
The cereal, of course. The special cereal, which came out when Ianto wasn't home because he thought it was unhealthy, despite the fact that it was whole grain and multigrain and all that stuff. Mica thought that it was a sad imitation of chocolate chip cookies, but Jack and the kids liked it, so they could have it. Well, Jack couldn't.
She reached into the cupboard, pushing up on her tiptoes to reach the box at the back of the top shelf. “They don't make things easy, do they?”
Andrew laughed. “Do you want a chair to stand on?”
Finally finding the box with her fingers, she pulled it out and shook it. “Nearly new box, too. I hope we've got milk in...”
Andrew and Belle feigned fear as she crept to the fridge and opened the door, then she pressed a hand to her chest and sighed in relief. “We have milk, and plenty of it. We're okay.”
She bustled around the kitchen finding bowls and spoons, setting the cereal, including honey nut cornflakes for herself, on the table with the milk and collecting glasses and cartons of fruit juice. Breakfast was definitely fun, filled with a slight sense of 'we might get in trouble for this', and some hope that they would, because that would mean that Ianto was back with Jack.
Belle went for second of the cereal and pressed a finger to her lips. “I won't tell if you won't.”
“He'll know anyway,” Mica pointed out dubiously.
“No he won't,” Andrew insisted with an angelic look. “Because we'll say that you had some.”
She paused, spoon halfway to her mouth. “Gee... thanks.”
“You're welcome.”
Next Chapter
Chapter Title: Chapter 2
Challenge/Fest: Schmoop_bingo - Card 3
Prompt: Friendships
Rating: G
Dedication:
Summary: One of Jack's missions has gone badly wrong, and Ianto has had to go to be with him, leaving 18-year-old Mica to babysit her young cousins and keep them distracted.
Characters: Mica Davies, Andrew Harkness-Jones, Mirabelle Harkness-Jones, Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, mentions of other canon and non-canon family
Contains: Fluff, family and friendship, cookies, a kitchen disaster, cricket and children.
Disclaimer: Torchwood and its environs, occurrences and persons belong to the BBC. The original characters have disowned me.
The one disadvantage Mica found with babysitting her cousins for long periods was that she did not do mornings, and they did. Like everyone else in her family, and like Belle probably would, she had grown out of mornings in her mid-teens and now preferred to be woken in the afternoon, if at all. Jack, of course, rose at dawn, Belle was still young enough that they didn't know which parent she took after, and Andrew had either learned it from Jack or inherited it from his biological parents, whoever they were.
Right now, Belle and Andrew were on the end of Mica's bed armed with pillows and wicked grins. “I'm not awake enough to modulate my language,” she growled, “and Ianto will kill me if I teach you to swear.”
Andrew smiled, although it was completely ruined by the look of cunning in his eyes and the pillow hanging from his hands. “You shouldn't swear anyway, Mica. It's naughty.”
“I am naughty,” she pointed out, trying to edge away from them and burrow further under the duvet. “I'll be a bad influence on you, so stay away.”
“But Mica,” Belle whined, “I'm hungry.”
She burrowed her head into the pillow a moment longer, then sat up and tangled her hand in her messy hair, yawning and stretching. “Hit me with those pillows and you can get your own breakfasts, okay?”
“Okay!”
Dear God, did the child really need to use so many exclamation marks so early in the morning? She'd always had an excess of them, in Mica's opinion. Yawning, she dragged herself out of bed and looked down at her bare legs, shorts just visible under the baggy T shirt she wore. “Okay kids, scram. I'm gonna get dressed, then I'll see you in the kitchen. Slippers both of you.”
She changed into her underused but comfortable jogging bottoms and matching hoody, disinclined to get dressed properly when she had no intention of even leaving the house, and hunted her slippers out from under the bed. Down in the kitchen, when she got there, Andrew was standing on a chair to get in the cupboard. “Andrew, down,” she snapped, her voice losing some of the strength she wanted it to have in a scared wobble. She hurried over and helped him down, then squeezed his shoulder. “Just because Jack and Ianto aren't here, that doesn't mean that their rules don't apply, okay?”
“I'm sorry, Mica.” His lower lip trembled, but he tried to hide it and meet her eyes.
“Andrew...” She sighed and hugged him. “We don't want you getting hurt. What would happen if you fell? You'd crack your head open on the counter, and you're not Jack.”
“Sorry, Mica.”
“I know you are,” she pushed him away and put the chair back at the table, giving Belle a stern glance. “Next time, don't encourage him. Or try to discourage him, even. What were you looking for?”
“The cereal.”
The cereal, of course. The special cereal, which came out when Ianto wasn't home because he thought it was unhealthy, despite the fact that it was whole grain and multigrain and all that stuff. Mica thought that it was a sad imitation of chocolate chip cookies, but Jack and the kids liked it, so they could have it. Well, Jack couldn't.
She reached into the cupboard, pushing up on her tiptoes to reach the box at the back of the top shelf. “They don't make things easy, do they?”
Andrew laughed. “Do you want a chair to stand on?”
Finally finding the box with her fingers, she pulled it out and shook it. “Nearly new box, too. I hope we've got milk in...”
Andrew and Belle feigned fear as she crept to the fridge and opened the door, then she pressed a hand to her chest and sighed in relief. “We have milk, and plenty of it. We're okay.”
She bustled around the kitchen finding bowls and spoons, setting the cereal, including honey nut cornflakes for herself, on the table with the milk and collecting glasses and cartons of fruit juice. Breakfast was definitely fun, filled with a slight sense of 'we might get in trouble for this', and some hope that they would, because that would mean that Ianto was back with Jack.
Belle went for second of the cereal and pressed a finger to her lips. “I won't tell if you won't.”
“He'll know anyway,” Mica pointed out dubiously.
“No he won't,” Andrew insisted with an angelic look. “Because we'll say that you had some.”
She paused, spoon halfway to her mouth. “Gee... thanks.”
“You're welcome.”
Next Chapter
