Story time!
Jan. 11th, 2008 11:40 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
cynical-sweater.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
treasure_geeksI was so off on my time line estimation, it's not even funny. There was a lot more I wanted to do with this story, plot wise, but I think I'll just write more one-shots. This can just be a little introduction into the Aliceverse. What's the popular consensus on that?
Title: Better Than This
Author: cynical_sweater(Bee! :D)
Rating: PGish... There's some sexiness, but mostly fluffiness. Maybe super-light PG-13?
Pairing: Ben/Riley
Summary: In which there is domesticity and cuteness abounds.
Warnings: Um, gayness? I hope that doesn't bother anyone. And, there's some kid stuff. So, if you're allergic to anything under the age of ten, beware! *wiggles fingers*
Disclaimer: Yeah. Right. *laughs* I own Alice, but I don't mind if you borrow her with credit. I also own Reese. You'll get it in the end. Other than that, I got nothin'.
The Washington air was damp and thick with impending rain. Benjamin Gates glanced upwards, to judge the cement-gray clouds, and readjusted the two grocery bags in his arms. It was only a few more blocks before he reached his family's simple brownstone apartment and, as soon as he was safely inside the stairwell, the sky rumbled ominously. He shook his head at his own luck (really, it had to run out eventually – it was mathematically illogical that he was still riding a lucky streak) and shifted his load again.
They had been running low on food for the past week and both men were avoiding the dreaded chore of grocery shopping for as long as possible. Finally at Riley's insistence that, as the man of the house, it was Ben's job to provide for their family, Ben was out providing for their family. Provide, in Riley-speak, meant go shopping to buy groceries just two hours before the storm of the century. The things men will do for love.
Ben stopped in front of their third-floor apartment door and stared at the tarnished gold 3F without moving. Both his arms were full and it seemed impossible to fish out the keys in his pocket without setting one of the paper bags on the floor. And, he grimaced as he glanced down at the dirty, stained carpet in the hall, Ben decided that was a very much not happening thing.
He leaned heavily against the wall and balanced the groceries in one arm as he fumbled with his keys. Already, he could hear the sweet sounds of domestic activity. Before the door was even fully unlocked, a sharp cry of Papa! followed by the harsh clatter of something falling on the floor reached his ears through the thick wood. Interesting, Ben acknowledged as he pocketed the keys and nudged the door open with his foot, but not unusual for their eccentric family.
“What happened?” He asked in lieu of greeting when he reached the modest kitchen. Riley Poole, techie-turned-father extraordinaire, stood up from his hunched crouch on the floor with their giggling daughter in his arms. Ben regarded the upside-down face of the four-year-old with mild bemusement.
“Alice,” Riley indicated the wriggling little girl who was now flailing to be put down, “heard you coming and decided to stand up on the chair – which is something we do not do, young lady,” he addressed her sternly as he set her down on the floor, “and she fell.”
“But Daddy caught me!” She finished proudly and smiled up at her papa, showing off a missing front-tooth.
“Thankfully,” Riley muttered to himself as he took both over-flowing grocery bags from Ben (in exchange for a quick kiss) and set them down on the counter. All of this was accomplished without tripping over Alice, who was hugging her daddy's leg while telling Ben all about the adventures she had in the hour he was gone.
“But 'fore that, Daddy and I read a story but then he said I had t'color at the table b'cause he had t'do the dishes and I dinnit wanna do the dishes so I was colorin'.” And she unwrapped one arm from Riley's calf to point at the kitchen table, where she had dumped out a small box of crayons and was using them to scribble on some paper.
“Why don't you show me some of your pictures?” Ben knelt eye-level with his daughter, who seemed to be considering this suggestion very seriously. Ben glanced up at Riley, who was watching the exchange with amusement. Honestly, it seemed unreal how lucky they were to have such an amazing little girl. When the decision was reached to make the foray fatherhood, Riley and Ben had to settle down. Sacrifices had to be made – there would be no more wild cross-country, worldwide adventures, and they both had to find stable, paying jobs – but, in return, they got the greatest treasure they could have imagined.
The treasure in question was currently pulling on her papa's hand with an impatient frown on her face, trying to get his attention. “Papa, Papa, Papa!” She chanted comically in beat with each tug.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” He gently removed his hand from her grasp and tucked a dark lock of hair behind her little ear. She giggled again and leaned into the touch. “Do you wanna help Daddy and I put the groceries away?” She shook her head, curls bouncing.
“I wanna watch TV,” she craned her neck up to seek approval from both her daddy and her papa. Riley nodded as he folded up the empty paper grocery bags. “Okay, Papa?”
“Sure baby,” Ben struggled to his feet as Alice untangled herself from Riley's leg and darted around him to the family room. “What do you want for dinner?” He called after her as she bounced on the couch and flicked on the television. She changed the channel to Nickelodeon and happy cartoon noises filled the air. “Alice?”
Briefly, she gave him split-second acknowledgment. “I dun' care.” And then, “pancakes!” Ben laughed as Riley's face lit up with an elated excitement identical to his daughter's. “Daddy, can we have pancakes?”
“If you help me flip 'em, kitten,” Riley bargained wisely. When he received no response, he peeked around the corner to see Alice with her eyes wide and focused solely on the television. “And, she's gone,” he whispered to himself and returned back to the dreaded chore of sorting the newly acquired food. Depending on what was on, the television could keep the four-year-old occupied for a good hour. It was a blessing when they needed to get some quick chores done without worrying about the little one.
Ben stood next to Riley at the counter, mesmerized by his quick-working, slender fingers. He always managed to lend a sort of quirky elegance to the most daily of tasks, like unpacking groceries or putting away dry dishes or loading up the washing machine. It made doing chores with him nearly impossible, as Ben was almost always distracted by the sight of him simply going through the motions. Riley, naturally, was utterly oblivious to Ben's fascination with his movements; he just went about his business.
Take now, for example. He was happily filling the previously empty fruit bowl with apples, taking special care to insure they would all become friends in their little ceramic home. He was about to switch a Granny Smith with a Red Delicious, because the arrangement looked a little too segregated for his liking, when Ben reached out and grabbed his hand. Riley furrowed his brow, mildly perplexed at the sudden interruption. His confusion faded to fuzzy shyness when Ben brought that same hand to his mouth, gently kissing the backs of his knuckles. A delicately pink blush bloomed along his cheek bones and the bridge of his nose.
“Oh...” he exhaled softly as he dropped the apples he had been holding. They rolled harmlessly to a stop on the counter. Ben smiled before slipping a hand under Riley's shirt to the warmth of his back. He used the position to pull the younger man against his chest and replaced Riley's hand with his mouth. It didn't take long for Riley to surrender to the kiss; he made a heartbreakingly soft little noise in the back of his throat and threaded his fingers through Ben's short hair.
Ben smiled to himself (it had been a while since the two had shared a private moment) and stroked the sensitive skin of Riley's bare hip, exposed by the baggy, beltless jeans he liked to wear around the house. It wasn't until he playfully danced his fingers along the tops of his boxers that Riley finally separated their mouths. He leaned his forehead against Ben's and opened his eyes which, Ben noted with a slight degree of smug satisfaction, were bright and dilated.
“Ben,” he warned quietly as he leaned back, “we can't do this here.” The way he stressed the word 'here' – like he was scandalized at the prospect being caught in the act of kissing in the privacy of their kitchen – made Ben's smile widen. “Alice is in the other room, and we don't want to traumatize her.” Ben shook his head and nipped playfully at Riley's lower lip before nuzzling gently into his neck. “Ben,” he whined again and tried to push away, only to be stopped by Ben's arms around his waist, “I'm serious.”
“You're cute,” Ben murmured into his shoulder. Riley rolled his eyes and disentangled himself before Ben could kiss him again. He returned to his previous task of putting away the fruit and he did so without looking at Ben, who was leaning with his back against the counter and his arms crossed over his chest. It took a lot of effort to ignore Ben, especially when he was practically staring a hole through Riley's head, but he managed not to so much as glance in his direction.
“Papa!” Alice hollered from the living room.
“Yeah, baby?” Ben called back without taking his eyes off Riley.
“Are we gonna have pancakes?”
“Ask your daddy.” Riley snorted to himself as he picked up two boxes of cereal and a jar of smooth peanut butter (he preferred crunchy, but he was the only one so he acquiesced to the family dynamic) and made his way to the small pantry on the other side of the kitchen, next to the fridge.
“Daddy?” Came the question from the living room.
“Yeah, kitten?” Riley returned over his shoulder as he tried to find room on the surprisingly crammed shelves. For just being out of food, they sure had a lot of nonperishables packed away. Once again, Ben played the spectator as he watched Riley dance from the counter to the pantry with his arms full of dry food.
“Are we gonna have pancakes?” She sounded closer, like she was just inside the kitchen.
“I dunno, sweetie,” he pretended to think as he backed out of the pantry and grabbed a bag of pretzels and a box of spaghetti noodles off the counter. “What did your papa say?”
“He tol' me t'ask you.” Alice stuck out her lower lip in a pout and tugged at the hem of her purple t-shirt. “Please, Daddy? I'll help you flip 'em.”
“You promise?” Riley asked in all seriousness and closed the pantry door with a satisfied finality. Alice's blue eyes were wide and honest as she nodded energetically. “You pinky-promise?” He knelt on his knees and held out his hand with his pinky finger slightly hooked. Eager to please, she hurriedly curled her little finger around his. They both kissed their thumbs and Riley pounced on her, sweeping her up in his arms. Alice shrieked in laughter as he mercilessly tickled her and tossed her in the air.
“Papa! Papa!” She screamed between giggles, “save me, Papa! Save me!” It didn't take long to wrestle Alice free from Riley's evil clutches as Ben sprang into action and slung his daughter over his shoulder. She kicked her little legs in futility before sagging against his back with a dramatic exhalation.
“Uh oh,” Riley joked as he held one of her little feet in his hands, “I think we wore her out.”
“You're right,” Ben nodded and winked at Riley over Alice's head resting on his shoulder, “I think it's time for Alice to go to bed, don't you?”
“Yes,” Riley answered as Alice all but screamed No! at the same time. “We'll have to put her to bed with no pancakes.” Clearly, a bedtime without pancakes was an unforgivable travesty and Alice protested to the best of her ability.
“No! No bedtime with no pancakes!” Instantly alert, she tried to wriggle and squirm her way down to the floor, where she could make her escape to pancake freedom. “I want pancakes!” Riley laughed as Ben had to struggle to keep a hold on the little girl, lest she fall and hurt herself.
“Okay, okay, okay,” Riley held put his arms and Alice reached for him. He took her from Ben and cradled her close to his face. “You go wash your hands, then Papa, you and me will make pancakes. Okay?” She nodded and he pressed a kiss to her head.
“Love you, Daddy,” she whispered as he set her down.
“Love you too, kitten.” And off she went, dashing to the bathroom to wash her hands. Riley watched her go with an odd tightness in his chest. Alice was actually his twin sister's daughter, conceived with Ben through artificial insemination. Reese Poole had been the only family member not to discard or discount Riley when he had come out to the family. As a gift to her baby (by two minutes) bother and the love of his life, she had agreed to have their child and after ninth months' worth of doctor's visits and paperwork, little Alice Paulina (named for Alice Paul, the early nineteenth century suffragette) Gates-Poole was born.
Now, nearly five years later, she was the only connection Riley had to his late sister. Not six months after Alice was born, Reese was killed in a car accident. It was a huge blow to the newly formed family, as both Ben and Riley had wanted Reese to play a large part in the theater of their baby girl's life. Seeing her with Alice had Riley convinced that she would have made a fantastic mother, if she only had the time to find the right man.
As if he could sense the other's thoughts, Ben slipped his arms around Riley from behind in a comforting hug. He rested his chin on his shoulders and touched his lips to the sensitive skin of his neck in a chaste kiss. Humming in thanks, Riley covered Ben's hands with his own and leaned into the embrace. “I just miss her sometimes.”
“I know, kiddo, I know.” He shut eyes and reveled in the closeness of the moment. “She did a great thing for us; I'll always be thankful for that.” Alice chose this time to bound back into the kitchen, proudly brandishing her clean hands. She stopped short when she saw her fathers hugging. For some reason, they didn't like her to watch them when they were like that, but she didn't mind so much. She liked cuddling with her daddy and her papa. It made her feel safe and warm. She puffed out her little cheeks in thought, pondering over the many ways to gently break the moment glowing in the kitchen. Thankfully, she was saved when Riley noticed her standing in hall and gently nudged Ben with his elbow.
“We have an audience.” Ben sighed in mock-disappointment before letting Riley go. They had pancake-related obligations to attend to, after all.
“I washed m'hands!” She held them up for Daddy and Papa inspection. They both made a show out of examining her hands for any invisible dirt and, when the stamp of approval was granted, she skipped around the kitchen. “I'll get the flour!” Alice announced as she flung open the pantry door, causing Ben to intervene in what could be a potential cooking disaster. The last time they had trusted Alice to gather ingredients, all matter of spices, sugar, flour and God knew what else ended up all over the floor, walls and cabinets. Suffice to say, Riley and Ben took extra care to make sure all cooking experiments were guided from that day forward. Very, very guided.
While Ben assisted Alice in getting the flour, sugar, salt and baking powder (meaning she grabbed them off the shelf and haphazardly thrust them in his direction) Riley searched for the measuring cups and spoons in the crammed “everything other than the silverware” drawer. He glanced over his shoulder, watching as Ben carefully lifted Alice up to grab the big plastic bowl from one of the cabinets. Really, he thought to himself as he found the half-cup with a triumphant ha!, life couldn't get any better than this.
(/scene)
So, what's the damage? I've never written a character under the age of about eleven or twelve, so I'm sorry if my characterization of a four-year-old was off. Most of this was based off of the two little toddlers I babysit and the brief time I spent with my three-year-old cousin over the holidays.
Ka-chow!
Title: Better Than This
Author: cynical_sweater(Bee! :D)
Rating: PGish... There's some sexiness, but mostly fluffiness. Maybe super-light PG-13?
Pairing: Ben/Riley
Summary: In which there is domesticity and cuteness abounds.
Warnings: Um, gayness? I hope that doesn't bother anyone. And, there's some kid stuff. So, if you're allergic to anything under the age of ten, beware! *wiggles fingers*
Disclaimer: Yeah. Right. *laughs* I own Alice, but I don't mind if you borrow her with credit. I also own Reese. You'll get it in the end. Other than that, I got nothin'.
The Washington air was damp and thick with impending rain. Benjamin Gates glanced upwards, to judge the cement-gray clouds, and readjusted the two grocery bags in his arms. It was only a few more blocks before he reached his family's simple brownstone apartment and, as soon as he was safely inside the stairwell, the sky rumbled ominously. He shook his head at his own luck (really, it had to run out eventually – it was mathematically illogical that he was still riding a lucky streak) and shifted his load again.
They had been running low on food for the past week and both men were avoiding the dreaded chore of grocery shopping for as long as possible. Finally at Riley's insistence that, as the man of the house, it was Ben's job to provide for their family, Ben was out providing for their family. Provide, in Riley-speak, meant go shopping to buy groceries just two hours before the storm of the century. The things men will do for love.
Ben stopped in front of their third-floor apartment door and stared at the tarnished gold 3F without moving. Both his arms were full and it seemed impossible to fish out the keys in his pocket without setting one of the paper bags on the floor. And, he grimaced as he glanced down at the dirty, stained carpet in the hall, Ben decided that was a very much not happening thing.
He leaned heavily against the wall and balanced the groceries in one arm as he fumbled with his keys. Already, he could hear the sweet sounds of domestic activity. Before the door was even fully unlocked, a sharp cry of Papa! followed by the harsh clatter of something falling on the floor reached his ears through the thick wood. Interesting, Ben acknowledged as he pocketed the keys and nudged the door open with his foot, but not unusual for their eccentric family.
“What happened?” He asked in lieu of greeting when he reached the modest kitchen. Riley Poole, techie-turned-father extraordinaire, stood up from his hunched crouch on the floor with their giggling daughter in his arms. Ben regarded the upside-down face of the four-year-old with mild bemusement.
“Alice,” Riley indicated the wriggling little girl who was now flailing to be put down, “heard you coming and decided to stand up on the chair – which is something we do not do, young lady,” he addressed her sternly as he set her down on the floor, “and she fell.”
“But Daddy caught me!” She finished proudly and smiled up at her papa, showing off a missing front-tooth.
“Thankfully,” Riley muttered to himself as he took both over-flowing grocery bags from Ben (in exchange for a quick kiss) and set them down on the counter. All of this was accomplished without tripping over Alice, who was hugging her daddy's leg while telling Ben all about the adventures she had in the hour he was gone.
“But 'fore that, Daddy and I read a story but then he said I had t'color at the table b'cause he had t'do the dishes and I dinnit wanna do the dishes so I was colorin'.” And she unwrapped one arm from Riley's calf to point at the kitchen table, where she had dumped out a small box of crayons and was using them to scribble on some paper.
“Why don't you show me some of your pictures?” Ben knelt eye-level with his daughter, who seemed to be considering this suggestion very seriously. Ben glanced up at Riley, who was watching the exchange with amusement. Honestly, it seemed unreal how lucky they were to have such an amazing little girl. When the decision was reached to make the foray fatherhood, Riley and Ben had to settle down. Sacrifices had to be made – there would be no more wild cross-country, worldwide adventures, and they both had to find stable, paying jobs – but, in return, they got the greatest treasure they could have imagined.
The treasure in question was currently pulling on her papa's hand with an impatient frown on her face, trying to get his attention. “Papa, Papa, Papa!” She chanted comically in beat with each tug.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” He gently removed his hand from her grasp and tucked a dark lock of hair behind her little ear. She giggled again and leaned into the touch. “Do you wanna help Daddy and I put the groceries away?” She shook her head, curls bouncing.
“I wanna watch TV,” she craned her neck up to seek approval from both her daddy and her papa. Riley nodded as he folded up the empty paper grocery bags. “Okay, Papa?”
“Sure baby,” Ben struggled to his feet as Alice untangled herself from Riley's leg and darted around him to the family room. “What do you want for dinner?” He called after her as she bounced on the couch and flicked on the television. She changed the channel to Nickelodeon and happy cartoon noises filled the air. “Alice?”
Briefly, she gave him split-second acknowledgment. “I dun' care.” And then, “pancakes!” Ben laughed as Riley's face lit up with an elated excitement identical to his daughter's. “Daddy, can we have pancakes?”
“If you help me flip 'em, kitten,” Riley bargained wisely. When he received no response, he peeked around the corner to see Alice with her eyes wide and focused solely on the television. “And, she's gone,” he whispered to himself and returned back to the dreaded chore of sorting the newly acquired food. Depending on what was on, the television could keep the four-year-old occupied for a good hour. It was a blessing when they needed to get some quick chores done without worrying about the little one.
Ben stood next to Riley at the counter, mesmerized by his quick-working, slender fingers. He always managed to lend a sort of quirky elegance to the most daily of tasks, like unpacking groceries or putting away dry dishes or loading up the washing machine. It made doing chores with him nearly impossible, as Ben was almost always distracted by the sight of him simply going through the motions. Riley, naturally, was utterly oblivious to Ben's fascination with his movements; he just went about his business.
Take now, for example. He was happily filling the previously empty fruit bowl with apples, taking special care to insure they would all become friends in their little ceramic home. He was about to switch a Granny Smith with a Red Delicious, because the arrangement looked a little too segregated for his liking, when Ben reached out and grabbed his hand. Riley furrowed his brow, mildly perplexed at the sudden interruption. His confusion faded to fuzzy shyness when Ben brought that same hand to his mouth, gently kissing the backs of his knuckles. A delicately pink blush bloomed along his cheek bones and the bridge of his nose.
“Oh...” he exhaled softly as he dropped the apples he had been holding. They rolled harmlessly to a stop on the counter. Ben smiled before slipping a hand under Riley's shirt to the warmth of his back. He used the position to pull the younger man against his chest and replaced Riley's hand with his mouth. It didn't take long for Riley to surrender to the kiss; he made a heartbreakingly soft little noise in the back of his throat and threaded his fingers through Ben's short hair.
Ben smiled to himself (it had been a while since the two had shared a private moment) and stroked the sensitive skin of Riley's bare hip, exposed by the baggy, beltless jeans he liked to wear around the house. It wasn't until he playfully danced his fingers along the tops of his boxers that Riley finally separated their mouths. He leaned his forehead against Ben's and opened his eyes which, Ben noted with a slight degree of smug satisfaction, were bright and dilated.
“Ben,” he warned quietly as he leaned back, “we can't do this here.” The way he stressed the word 'here' – like he was scandalized at the prospect being caught in the act of kissing in the privacy of their kitchen – made Ben's smile widen. “Alice is in the other room, and we don't want to traumatize her.” Ben shook his head and nipped playfully at Riley's lower lip before nuzzling gently into his neck. “Ben,” he whined again and tried to push away, only to be stopped by Ben's arms around his waist, “I'm serious.”
“You're cute,” Ben murmured into his shoulder. Riley rolled his eyes and disentangled himself before Ben could kiss him again. He returned to his previous task of putting away the fruit and he did so without looking at Ben, who was leaning with his back against the counter and his arms crossed over his chest. It took a lot of effort to ignore Ben, especially when he was practically staring a hole through Riley's head, but he managed not to so much as glance in his direction.
“Papa!” Alice hollered from the living room.
“Yeah, baby?” Ben called back without taking his eyes off Riley.
“Are we gonna have pancakes?”
“Ask your daddy.” Riley snorted to himself as he picked up two boxes of cereal and a jar of smooth peanut butter (he preferred crunchy, but he was the only one so he acquiesced to the family dynamic) and made his way to the small pantry on the other side of the kitchen, next to the fridge.
“Daddy?” Came the question from the living room.
“Yeah, kitten?” Riley returned over his shoulder as he tried to find room on the surprisingly crammed shelves. For just being out of food, they sure had a lot of nonperishables packed away. Once again, Ben played the spectator as he watched Riley dance from the counter to the pantry with his arms full of dry food.
“Are we gonna have pancakes?” She sounded closer, like she was just inside the kitchen.
“I dunno, sweetie,” he pretended to think as he backed out of the pantry and grabbed a bag of pretzels and a box of spaghetti noodles off the counter. “What did your papa say?”
“He tol' me t'ask you.” Alice stuck out her lower lip in a pout and tugged at the hem of her purple t-shirt. “Please, Daddy? I'll help you flip 'em.”
“You promise?” Riley asked in all seriousness and closed the pantry door with a satisfied finality. Alice's blue eyes were wide and honest as she nodded energetically. “You pinky-promise?” He knelt on his knees and held out his hand with his pinky finger slightly hooked. Eager to please, she hurriedly curled her little finger around his. They both kissed their thumbs and Riley pounced on her, sweeping her up in his arms. Alice shrieked in laughter as he mercilessly tickled her and tossed her in the air.
“Papa! Papa!” She screamed between giggles, “save me, Papa! Save me!” It didn't take long to wrestle Alice free from Riley's evil clutches as Ben sprang into action and slung his daughter over his shoulder. She kicked her little legs in futility before sagging against his back with a dramatic exhalation.
“Uh oh,” Riley joked as he held one of her little feet in his hands, “I think we wore her out.”
“You're right,” Ben nodded and winked at Riley over Alice's head resting on his shoulder, “I think it's time for Alice to go to bed, don't you?”
“Yes,” Riley answered as Alice all but screamed No! at the same time. “We'll have to put her to bed with no pancakes.” Clearly, a bedtime without pancakes was an unforgivable travesty and Alice protested to the best of her ability.
“No! No bedtime with no pancakes!” Instantly alert, she tried to wriggle and squirm her way down to the floor, where she could make her escape to pancake freedom. “I want pancakes!” Riley laughed as Ben had to struggle to keep a hold on the little girl, lest she fall and hurt herself.
“Okay, okay, okay,” Riley held put his arms and Alice reached for him. He took her from Ben and cradled her close to his face. “You go wash your hands, then Papa, you and me will make pancakes. Okay?” She nodded and he pressed a kiss to her head.
“Love you, Daddy,” she whispered as he set her down.
“Love you too, kitten.” And off she went, dashing to the bathroom to wash her hands. Riley watched her go with an odd tightness in his chest. Alice was actually his twin sister's daughter, conceived with Ben through artificial insemination. Reese Poole had been the only family member not to discard or discount Riley when he had come out to the family. As a gift to her baby (by two minutes) bother and the love of his life, she had agreed to have their child and after ninth months' worth of doctor's visits and paperwork, little Alice Paulina (named for Alice Paul, the early nineteenth century suffragette) Gates-Poole was born.
Now, nearly five years later, she was the only connection Riley had to his late sister. Not six months after Alice was born, Reese was killed in a car accident. It was a huge blow to the newly formed family, as both Ben and Riley had wanted Reese to play a large part in the theater of their baby girl's life. Seeing her with Alice had Riley convinced that she would have made a fantastic mother, if she only had the time to find the right man.
As if he could sense the other's thoughts, Ben slipped his arms around Riley from behind in a comforting hug. He rested his chin on his shoulders and touched his lips to the sensitive skin of his neck in a chaste kiss. Humming in thanks, Riley covered Ben's hands with his own and leaned into the embrace. “I just miss her sometimes.”
“I know, kiddo, I know.” He shut eyes and reveled in the closeness of the moment. “She did a great thing for us; I'll always be thankful for that.” Alice chose this time to bound back into the kitchen, proudly brandishing her clean hands. She stopped short when she saw her fathers hugging. For some reason, they didn't like her to watch them when they were like that, but she didn't mind so much. She liked cuddling with her daddy and her papa. It made her feel safe and warm. She puffed out her little cheeks in thought, pondering over the many ways to gently break the moment glowing in the kitchen. Thankfully, she was saved when Riley noticed her standing in hall and gently nudged Ben with his elbow.
“We have an audience.” Ben sighed in mock-disappointment before letting Riley go. They had pancake-related obligations to attend to, after all.
“I washed m'hands!” She held them up for Daddy and Papa inspection. They both made a show out of examining her hands for any invisible dirt and, when the stamp of approval was granted, she skipped around the kitchen. “I'll get the flour!” Alice announced as she flung open the pantry door, causing Ben to intervene in what could be a potential cooking disaster. The last time they had trusted Alice to gather ingredients, all matter of spices, sugar, flour and God knew what else ended up all over the floor, walls and cabinets. Suffice to say, Riley and Ben took extra care to make sure all cooking experiments were guided from that day forward. Very, very guided.
While Ben assisted Alice in getting the flour, sugar, salt and baking powder (meaning she grabbed them off the shelf and haphazardly thrust them in his direction) Riley searched for the measuring cups and spoons in the crammed “everything other than the silverware” drawer. He glanced over his shoulder, watching as Ben carefully lifted Alice up to grab the big plastic bowl from one of the cabinets. Really, he thought to himself as he found the half-cup with a triumphant ha!, life couldn't get any better than this.
(/scene)
So, what's the damage? I've never written a character under the age of about eleven or twelve, so I'm sorry if my characterization of a four-year-old was off. Most of this was based off of the two little toddlers I babysit and the brief time I spent with my three-year-old cousin over the holidays.
Ka-chow!
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