mindsplinters (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mindsplinters) wrote2010-08-10 02:08 am
mindsplinters) wrote2010-08-10 02:08 am
Third Square
For the Kidfic square!
Who: Dusty and Tasha from Kingdom
Why: Surely you jest? <3
"Daddy, nooooo." While there were no actual tears in evidence, Sylvia greeted her father with the most pathetic of pouts. Tasha watched her husband melt immediately but her shoulders straightened with pride as she also saw him resist the urge to scoop her up for comforting. He was learning, bless. It wasn't that she was unfeeling; heaven knew that she wanted to puddle into a useless lump of cooing adoration when that look was turned on her. But their little girl had to learn some things and it was best to keep the line firm at all times. So Tasha kept herself back and waited to see what would develop. She also did her best not to smile grimly. It was a hell of a thing to come back from work to, she knew.
After dropping the saddlebags from his bike by the door, Dusty crouched in front of their daughter and cocked his head to one side like a curious dog. "No, what?" he asked. "What's up now, princess?"
"Uncle DeeDee said I could come over to play but Mommy says you said no."
He sent a quick glance in her direction and Tasha nodded minutely to confirm the story. However, she also carefully mouthed the words "death match." The flicker in his eyes showed his understanding and he set his hands on Sylvia's slim shoulders, dwarfing her tiny frame with the size and strength of his grip. "Sylvie," he began very solemnly. "I know how much you like to go play at the Fortress but, dude, little girls need their sleep." He considered. "Like, more sleep and less, y'know, Deon." Noticing her indignant look and parting lips, Dusty pressed a finger down against the tip of her nose, flattening it. "Not that he's not cool and all. Like, I get it. You wanna hang out with him, right?"
"He said if I sleep over he'll show me a movie with a chainsaw."
Dusty visibly counted to three before smiling and pulling his daughter into a bear hug. "I bet he would, princess," he agreed, "but you're gonna have to wait for that one. Mommy knows that your bedtime is 8 o'clock."
"But she said that you said..."
"Yep, I said your bedtime's 8 o'clock." He straightened, hauling Sylvia up with him and shifting her to hang over one shoulder in a lazy, affectionate way. Then he smiled at Tasha before turning on his heel and heading for a certain room, decorated in shades of blue and white with an incongruous lacy canopy over a bed littered with action figures and cars and ponies. "Uncle Deon and the chainsaws are gonna have to wait until, like, after your dance lesson tomorrow. Then we'll get ice cream or something and drop you off. He'll like that, yeah?"
Tasha's giggle was muffled by Sylvia's delighted "yes."
It took forty-five minutes and two bedtime stories before Dusty could slip safely away from his daughter's room. When he returned, Tasha looked up from her sprawled position on the couch and smiled at him. He grinned back crookedly, reaching back to rub the back of his head, ruffling his pale hair. "You're amazing," she announced and her smile grew even more adoring.
"Huh? Me? Nah." He aw-shucks'd for a few moments until he earned her laugh and she adjusted her position, arms out to welcome him. He took the invitation gladly and quickly sank into the familiar warmth of her embrace, his back to her front and his head tilting back to rest against her shoulder.
Tasha kissed his temple almost immediately after looping her arms around his shoulders. "You're amazing," she repeated in a low, fond voice. "You handled that so well. She damn near had a fit at me before you walked in." She cuddled him to her and tilted to rest her cheek against his hair with a faint sigh. "I was counting up to twenty."
Bringing his hands up, Dusty covered hers, holding his wife's clasped hands over his heart. "Daddy's girl," he half-asked, half-suggested. Then he tilted his head back further and squinted up at her. "You're, like, the amazing one. Totally epic. I mean, dude, you gave birth to her. You gave me this totally perfect little girl. You're weapons-grade, baby." He grinned wide. "I love you, kitten."
She laughed and squirmed until she was able to kiss the corner of his mouth. "I love you, too, stud," she murmured. "I'm so glad I had enough sense to snag you. You're perfect... And our little princess had better find someone at least as good when she grows up."
At that thought, Dusty released her hands and twisted around to bury his melodramatic groan in Tasha's cleavage. "Yeah, right. I'm putting her, like, in a nunnery. No boys. Ever."
Tasha tangled her fingers in his hair and held him close, laughter starting again. "But, sweetheart, don't you know all little girls want to grow up to marry guys just like their daddy?"
Laughter turned to girlish giggles, nearly uncontrolled, at Dusty's barely audible response of "...shiiiiiit..." and she reveled in the joy that was her life.
Who: Dusty and Tasha from Kingdom
Why: Surely you jest? <3
"Daddy, nooooo." While there were no actual tears in evidence, Sylvia greeted her father with the most pathetic of pouts. Tasha watched her husband melt immediately but her shoulders straightened with pride as she also saw him resist the urge to scoop her up for comforting. He was learning, bless. It wasn't that she was unfeeling; heaven knew that she wanted to puddle into a useless lump of cooing adoration when that look was turned on her. But their little girl had to learn some things and it was best to keep the line firm at all times. So Tasha kept herself back and waited to see what would develop. She also did her best not to smile grimly. It was a hell of a thing to come back from work to, she knew.
After dropping the saddlebags from his bike by the door, Dusty crouched in front of their daughter and cocked his head to one side like a curious dog. "No, what?" he asked. "What's up now, princess?"
"Uncle DeeDee said I could come over to play but Mommy says you said no."
He sent a quick glance in her direction and Tasha nodded minutely to confirm the story. However, she also carefully mouthed the words "death match." The flicker in his eyes showed his understanding and he set his hands on Sylvia's slim shoulders, dwarfing her tiny frame with the size and strength of his grip. "Sylvie," he began very solemnly. "I know how much you like to go play at the Fortress but, dude, little girls need their sleep." He considered. "Like, more sleep and less, y'know, Deon." Noticing her indignant look and parting lips, Dusty pressed a finger down against the tip of her nose, flattening it. "Not that he's not cool and all. Like, I get it. You wanna hang out with him, right?"
"He said if I sleep over he'll show me a movie with a chainsaw."
Dusty visibly counted to three before smiling and pulling his daughter into a bear hug. "I bet he would, princess," he agreed, "but you're gonna have to wait for that one. Mommy knows that your bedtime is 8 o'clock."
"But she said that you said..."
"Yep, I said your bedtime's 8 o'clock." He straightened, hauling Sylvia up with him and shifting her to hang over one shoulder in a lazy, affectionate way. Then he smiled at Tasha before turning on his heel and heading for a certain room, decorated in shades of blue and white with an incongruous lacy canopy over a bed littered with action figures and cars and ponies. "Uncle Deon and the chainsaws are gonna have to wait until, like, after your dance lesson tomorrow. Then we'll get ice cream or something and drop you off. He'll like that, yeah?"
Tasha's giggle was muffled by Sylvia's delighted "yes."
It took forty-five minutes and two bedtime stories before Dusty could slip safely away from his daughter's room. When he returned, Tasha looked up from her sprawled position on the couch and smiled at him. He grinned back crookedly, reaching back to rub the back of his head, ruffling his pale hair. "You're amazing," she announced and her smile grew even more adoring.
"Huh? Me? Nah." He aw-shucks'd for a few moments until he earned her laugh and she adjusted her position, arms out to welcome him. He took the invitation gladly and quickly sank into the familiar warmth of her embrace, his back to her front and his head tilting back to rest against her shoulder.
Tasha kissed his temple almost immediately after looping her arms around his shoulders. "You're amazing," she repeated in a low, fond voice. "You handled that so well. She damn near had a fit at me before you walked in." She cuddled him to her and tilted to rest her cheek against his hair with a faint sigh. "I was counting up to twenty."
Bringing his hands up, Dusty covered hers, holding his wife's clasped hands over his heart. "Daddy's girl," he half-asked, half-suggested. Then he tilted his head back further and squinted up at her. "You're, like, the amazing one. Totally epic. I mean, dude, you gave birth to her. You gave me this totally perfect little girl. You're weapons-grade, baby." He grinned wide. "I love you, kitten."
She laughed and squirmed until she was able to kiss the corner of his mouth. "I love you, too, stud," she murmured. "I'm so glad I had enough sense to snag you. You're perfect... And our little princess had better find someone at least as good when she grows up."
At that thought, Dusty released her hands and twisted around to bury his melodramatic groan in Tasha's cleavage. "Yeah, right. I'm putting her, like, in a nunnery. No boys. Ever."
Tasha tangled her fingers in his hair and held him close, laughter starting again. "But, sweetheart, don't you know all little girls want to grow up to marry guys just like their daddy?"
Laughter turned to girlish giggles, nearly uncontrolled, at Dusty's barely audible response of "...shiiiiiit..." and she reveled in the joy that was her life.
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