Bring Him Home Chapter 3
Nov. 7th, 2010 09:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
galadriel1010Title: Bring Him Home
Chapter Title: Chapter 3
Challenge/Fest: Schmoop_bingo - Card 3
Prompt: Baking cookies
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.
Mica looked up from her sketchpad and raised her eyebrow. “What?”
“Nothing.” Belle folded her arms and rested her chin on them, smiling sweetly. “What you doing?”
“I'm drawing, aren't I?” She glanced up again and tilted her head. “Are you bored?”
Belle shook her head, but her bottom lip jutted. “I'm okay.”
Mica nodded and turned her attention back to her sketch, adding in a couple of markers so that she could come back to it later. “I guess you won't want to help me make biscuits then.”
“I didn't say that,” she protested, raising her head. “Why do you need to make biscuits?”
“Because I like biscuits,” Mica told her and smirked at her. “Do we need a reason for biscuits?”
Belle considered this for a moment, then scrambled to her feet. “I don't know, but that is a good reason for biscuits. Should I get Andrew?”
“See if he wants to, sure,” she agreed. “But if he wants to keep playing his game then let him. We'll save him some biscuits, won't we?”
“Mmm...” Belle tipped her head to one side to think about it. “Okay. We should save some for Daddy and Tad too.”
“Of course we will.” Mica flipped her pad closed and smiled at her. “You go and find Andrew, and I'll get ready for baking in the kitchen.”
She was nearly ready when Andrew and Belle scuttled into the room, with two mixing bowls and wooden spoons and all the ingredients they needed set out on the counter. “Wash your hands,” she instructed, “and get an apron from the drawer.”
“Mica, what sort of biscuits are we making?” Andrew wanted to know.
“Um, shortbread,” she looked at the ingredients they had thoughtfully. “I should have gone shopping first, but we have enough.”
“Can we decorate them?”
“Well of course,” she scoffed. “Can't have undecorated shortbread.”
She supervised, hands on her hips and wooden spoon wielded as a baton, guiding Andrew and Belle through mixing together the flour, sugar and butter with a drop of vanilla essence. They both had to stand on buffets, because Jack's pouting and persuading that they should learn to cook for themselves had lost out to Ianto's pointing out that they would grow, and would do it quickly. The counters were actually set slightly higher than the standard, because Jack and Ianto were both six feet tall, and Jones women tended to reach nearly that – Mica herself was five foot nine, and David passed Jack and Ianto before he and Steven disappeared off around the world, so who knew how tall he was by now?
Andrew was neat, as he was in everything. He weighed all his ingredients out exactly, frowning with concentration and keeping nearly all of it in the bowl. It came partly from his years of living in foster homes and trying not to be a bother, trying to make himself as small as possible so that he could find a space to fit into more easily. Part of it was just natural, though, and so many people had managed to overlook him. Jack never let anyone fade into the background, though, and Mica thought that Andrew had been so like Ianto that Jack had loved him immediately.
Belle, meanwhile, had had butter on her nose nearly from the start, and there was nearly more flour on her apron than in the bowl. Okay, so she was still seven, but she made a mess, and she didn't get it from either of her fathers. Even Jack had a military neatness – gained, unsurprisingly, during his time in the military – even though it lent itself more to clutter than Ianto's did. But Belle was a whirlwind in everything, and she did it with such joy that no one could fault her for it. Well, except when they were trying to clean up after her.
“Belle, you know we're not supposed to put the dough onto the work surface until it's ready to roll out...” Mica tried not to laugh and caught Belle's hair up again, clipping it out of the way with a bright pink flower clip that lived on one of the drawer handles. “Although we do have a ready floured surface, I suppose.”
She helped Belle to mix her dough together properly, then helped them both to roll it out. Jack had quite a collection of cutters of different shapes and sizes, which Mica laid out on the table for them to choose from. Belle chose a selection of six, and Andrew went for the six-pointed star shaped cutter. The biscuits were soon in the oven, and they cleared the table to be able to decorate them.
Mica studied the chocolate flavour body paint for a couple of seconds and put it back where she found it before the kids could see it. Even without it, they had a box full of icing in tubes of all sizes and colours, and enough roll-out icing for them to be able to cover each biscuit. She'd never really worried about this fact before now. “Okay.” She set the box down on the table and got out the packets of roll out icing. “Choose your coverings, and I'll find jam to attach them to the biscuits. Belle, no eating the icing.”
It was chaos. A nice sort of chaos, but chaos non-the-less. Mica sagged against a chair and rubbed at her nose, trying to shift the blob of icing she could see in the corner of her vision. Andrew and Belle had both gone for baths obediently – and boy did they need them – and Mica was left with the clean-up. There was icing everywhere. She straightened Belle's 'Tad' biscuit – heart-shaped and far too pink for Ianto's tastes, but he wouldn't mind – and grinned. “Oops?”
Next chapter
Chapter Title: Chapter 3
Challenge/Fest: Schmoop_bingo - Card 3
Prompt: Baking cookies
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.
Mica looked up from her sketchpad and raised her eyebrow. “What?”
“Nothing.” Belle folded her arms and rested her chin on them, smiling sweetly. “What you doing?”
“I'm drawing, aren't I?” She glanced up again and tilted her head. “Are you bored?”
Belle shook her head, but her bottom lip jutted. “I'm okay.”
Mica nodded and turned her attention back to her sketch, adding in a couple of markers so that she could come back to it later. “I guess you won't want to help me make biscuits then.”
“I didn't say that,” she protested, raising her head. “Why do you need to make biscuits?”
“Because I like biscuits,” Mica told her and smirked at her. “Do we need a reason for biscuits?”
Belle considered this for a moment, then scrambled to her feet. “I don't know, but that is a good reason for biscuits. Should I get Andrew?”
“See if he wants to, sure,” she agreed. “But if he wants to keep playing his game then let him. We'll save him some biscuits, won't we?”
“Mmm...” Belle tipped her head to one side to think about it. “Okay. We should save some for Daddy and Tad too.”
“Of course we will.” Mica flipped her pad closed and smiled at her. “You go and find Andrew, and I'll get ready for baking in the kitchen.”
She was nearly ready when Andrew and Belle scuttled into the room, with two mixing bowls and wooden spoons and all the ingredients they needed set out on the counter. “Wash your hands,” she instructed, “and get an apron from the drawer.”
“Mica, what sort of biscuits are we making?” Andrew wanted to know.
“Um, shortbread,” she looked at the ingredients they had thoughtfully. “I should have gone shopping first, but we have enough.”
“Can we decorate them?”
“Well of course,” she scoffed. “Can't have undecorated shortbread.”
She supervised, hands on her hips and wooden spoon wielded as a baton, guiding Andrew and Belle through mixing together the flour, sugar and butter with a drop of vanilla essence. They both had to stand on buffets, because Jack's pouting and persuading that they should learn to cook for themselves had lost out to Ianto's pointing out that they would grow, and would do it quickly. The counters were actually set slightly higher than the standard, because Jack and Ianto were both six feet tall, and Jones women tended to reach nearly that – Mica herself was five foot nine, and David passed Jack and Ianto before he and Steven disappeared off around the world, so who knew how tall he was by now?
Andrew was neat, as he was in everything. He weighed all his ingredients out exactly, frowning with concentration and keeping nearly all of it in the bowl. It came partly from his years of living in foster homes and trying not to be a bother, trying to make himself as small as possible so that he could find a space to fit into more easily. Part of it was just natural, though, and so many people had managed to overlook him. Jack never let anyone fade into the background, though, and Mica thought that Andrew had been so like Ianto that Jack had loved him immediately.
Belle, meanwhile, had had butter on her nose nearly from the start, and there was nearly more flour on her apron than in the bowl. Okay, so she was still seven, but she made a mess, and she didn't get it from either of her fathers. Even Jack had a military neatness – gained, unsurprisingly, during his time in the military – even though it lent itself more to clutter than Ianto's did. But Belle was a whirlwind in everything, and she did it with such joy that no one could fault her for it. Well, except when they were trying to clean up after her.
“Belle, you know we're not supposed to put the dough onto the work surface until it's ready to roll out...” Mica tried not to laugh and caught Belle's hair up again, clipping it out of the way with a bright pink flower clip that lived on one of the drawer handles. “Although we do have a ready floured surface, I suppose.”
She helped Belle to mix her dough together properly, then helped them both to roll it out. Jack had quite a collection of cutters of different shapes and sizes, which Mica laid out on the table for them to choose from. Belle chose a selection of six, and Andrew went for the six-pointed star shaped cutter. The biscuits were soon in the oven, and they cleared the table to be able to decorate them.
Mica studied the chocolate flavour body paint for a couple of seconds and put it back where she found it before the kids could see it. Even without it, they had a box full of icing in tubes of all sizes and colours, and enough roll-out icing for them to be able to cover each biscuit. She'd never really worried about this fact before now. “Okay.” She set the box down on the table and got out the packets of roll out icing. “Choose your coverings, and I'll find jam to attach them to the biscuits. Belle, no eating the icing.”
It was chaos. A nice sort of chaos, but chaos non-the-less. Mica sagged against a chair and rubbed at her nose, trying to shift the blob of icing she could see in the corner of her vision. Andrew and Belle had both gone for baths obediently – and boy did they need them – and Mica was left with the clean-up. There was icing everywhere. She straightened Belle's 'Tad' biscuit – heart-shaped and far too pink for Ianto's tastes, but he wouldn't mind – and grinned. “Oops?”
Next chapter
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Date: 2010-11-06 11:01 pm (UTC)(And I always know to look for a new story from you, because you answer reviews when you post:) )
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Date: 2010-11-07 11:43 pm (UTC)I am very strict with myself these days, get posting and replying done in one go. It usually takes me a couple of hours, but it means that I don't get distracted by it during the day.
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