Topic: Faery Cakes

Lyneth Granger

Date: 2013-02-14 17:00 EST
((Takes place during the afternoon of the 3rd February, while Piper is at Vicki's baby shower.)) _____________

There are some things no man should agree to. One of those things should be the suggestion made by a tiny child that the best thing they could possibly do with their afternoon would be to bake her mother a cake as a surprise for when she got back from the baby shower she was attending. Lyneth had made full use of those big turquoise eyes, and Des had caved, with interesting consequences. Certainly he'd never been in the presence of a kitchen full of faery folk before, and it was highly unlikely that he'd expected the baking to merely involve sitting down and reading out the instructions while fairies, gnomes, pixies, and brownies simultaneously made a mess and cleaned it up after themselves. And somehow Lynnie was still covered in flour.

It was no secret that Desmond had found himself completely charmed by the little girl he'd met on Christmas Eve and by her lovely mother, both of them somehow melting his heart and able to wrap him around their fingers with little more than a smile, but Des wasn't complaining. For the first time in a long time, he felt loved, wanted, needed even, and for the first time in his life, part of a real family, even if it was a family unlike the traditional kind, filled with magic and fairies and a little girl not of his own blood who seemed to adore him. "Lynnie," he laughed, sky-blue eyes dancing with mischief. "You've got a little flour on your nose," he said, tweaking her nose playfully before plucking her up and setting her down on a chair. In all truth, she was covered in flour and he wasn't quite comfortable enough with her yet to give her a bath.

"A little?" came an indignant squawk from the brownie on the floor, his familiarly ugly face screwed up incredulously as he paused in his sweeping up of the bag of flour that had unaccountably exploded. It could have been the fact that the fairies dropped it from a height of about six feet that had done it.

Lyneth giggled as Des lifted her up, her feet kicking for a moment before she was put down again. "Where on my nose?" she asked Des curiously, big eyes crossing to try and locate the little bit of flour he was worried about.

To be fair, Des had a good amount of flour sprinkled in his hair and dusting his clothing, almost giving him the look of an older man with graying hair, if not for the youthful face and the lively blue-gray eyes that were bright with affection for his littlest charge. Des ignored the cranky brownie, whom he'd become accustomed to over the last few weeks since he'd first made his acquaintance. He'd learned that the brownie meant no harm, at least where Lyneth was concerned, and was far more helpful than harmful. He had, in fact, become fond of the little man, though Des was loath to openly admit it. "Right there," he said, brushing a finger against her nose with a grin. "Wait, I think I have it," he said, leaning in and crossing his eyes playfully before brushing his nose against her in an Eskimo kiss.

The little button nose scrunched as first a finger, and then a nose was brushed against it. In hindsight, Des should really have known better than to get that close to an affectionate little girl who was wearing more flour than was in the mixing bowl. Certainly, Lyneth gave no warning, launching herself out of her chair in a billowing white cloud to hug her newest friend tightly, leaving more than just handprints on his shirt. "Mummy's goin' to like the cake, isn't she, Des?" she asked hopefully, planting a wet kiss on his cheek. "An' we can decorate it an' put yummy flowers on it an' share it with the faeries -" this got a cheer from the various little people making organised chaos around them "- an' have it for puddin', can't we" Please, please, please?"

To his credit, Des didn't recoil when that flour-laden little girl launched herself at him, squatted down in front of her the way he was. He sneezed once as the cloud of flour tickled his nose but the sneeze was quickly followed by light-hearted laughter as he found Lyneth hugging him tightly and kissing his cheek. How could he possibly find anything wrong with that, mess or no mess" "She's going to love it, Lynnie, so long as you promise to eat your dinner before we have cake," he said, tweaking her little cute button nose again, just because he could. He slid her onto his lap, as there wasn't much point in trying to stay flour-free anymore. He couldn't deny he felt happy when he was with her and Piper, happier than he'd ever felt before, but there was something he hadn't told her yet, something that might make them both sad.

"If I promise, will you promise not to tell Mummy about the big choklit ice cream?" Lyneth asked solemnly. She'd tricked him into buying an ice cream bigger than her own head, eaten it all, and then thrown up mostly on Correy, and had spent the remainder of the day trying to convince Des not to mention it to her mother when Piper got home.

Disgusting as it had been, as soon as Des and Correy had determined that Lyneth was all right, he couldn't help find himself a little amused by the incident. With any luck, it was to be their little secret, and Piper would never know he had horribly spoiled and overindulged the little girl. "I promise!" he declared seriously, drawing a cross against his chest. "Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye!"

"All right then!" As Oisin the brownie charged across the kitchen, having produced a needle from the depths of his grubby coat, Lyneth let loose with a raucous peal of laughter that brought Loki rushing in from the garden. Flour on tile plus paws was not a good combination, and the Malamute quickly lost all traction, skidding wildly across the floor to land in a heap by Des' feet. And from underneath the dog came a very muffled, "Ow."

The kitchen had suddenly - or maybe not so suddenly - erupted into a comedy act. Des arched a brow as he watched the show, almost as if it was all taking place in slow motion, the brownie taking him literally, the dog skidding across the floor to land as his feet and squish the poor brownie beneath him. Des pressed a hand to his mouth to suppress his laughter, before leaning over to lift Loki up to save the brownie from being crushed beneath him. "You okay?" he asked, trying to look more concerned than amused.

Leaning over her little friend with an expression as much concerned as giggling, Lyneth prodded the brownie with a finger.

Oisin was lying on his back, his big nose bent flat against his face, and the needle he had been proposing to stick in Des' eye pinning his bowler hat to the floor. He groaned, taking in a deep breath that somehow managed to ping his nose relatively straight once again. "Fine," he croaked, coughing out a lungful of what looked like dog hair before pulling himself to his feet. Loki lowered his muzzle to look closely at the brownie for a moment before barking in a friendly way, resting his chin on Des' knee. Now everyone was covered in flour.

Desmond couldn't help himself and broke into a fit of laughter at the comedy that was playing itself out before his eyes. In all truth, he needed it. His life on the other side of the Nexus was far too serious, far too dismal, and he was thoroughly enjoying the light-hearted fun he enjoyed whenever he was with Lyneth and her fairy friends. "Oh, God..." he said, heaving a breath as he shook with laughter. "Your mother is going to kill me!" But for some reason, that only made him laugh that much harder.

Des' laugh was infectious enough to be joined very soon by Lyneth's familiarly high-pitched giggles, even as the little girl swept the brownie off the floor to hug him. Oisin obligingly didn't complain, rescuing his hat when he'd been put down and scuttling back to his tidying, his greyish face flaming red with an almost embarrassed blush. A squeaking voice from the work top where the cake was being assembled drew their attention to the fairies, who were struggling to lift the mixing bowl in order to pour the mixture into the prepared tins. There were seven of them, yes; but the bowl was ceramic, and pretty heavy even when empty. It looked like a disaster waiting to happen.

"Oh, sh-" Des cut himself off before the entire world slipped out of his mouth, so as not to soil a certain little girl's virgin ears. Even if she had heard it before, she wasn't going to hear it again from him. He was on his feet in an instant and dashing across the room to rescue the ceramic bowl before it crashed on the floor. "You know, I appreciate all the help, but I am capable of baking a cake!" he said as he caught hold of the bowl and helped the little people pour the batter into the pans. That was a close one.

Lyneth Granger

Date: 2013-02-14 17:01 EST
The fairies seemed just as relieved as he was, fluttering around his head as he poured the batter out. A crash from the oven betrayed the gnomes getting it open had involved rather more violence than was usually allowed, as a wave of heat rolled across the kitchen. Across the room, Lyneth was leaning against Loki, both of them watching the progress with interest. "Are you gonna sit in the oven with the cake and watch it cook?"

Des winced at the sound of the oven crashing open. "Take it easy!" he warned, hoping they could get the cake baked and the kitchen cleaned up before Piper got home to see the mess. "Who?" he asked, his back to Lyneth and Loki, unsure who exactly was being spoken to. Once the batter had been poured into the baking tins, he took one to the oven and slid it onto the baking rack before turning back for the other.

She looked up, floury fingers in her mouth and the dog butting gently at her shoulder. In fact, the little girl looked for all the world as though she'd just been caught doing something she definitely shouldn't. "Um ....him?" she suggested, pointing down at Oisin, who looked up absolutely aghast at the thought of spending a full half hour or more in an oven.

Des looked slightly relieved that no one was expecting him to get into the oven. He wouldn't fit anyway, but somehow, he had a feeling that might not be so much of a problem with a bunch of fairies for friends. He glanced to the poor brownie, who Des thought had already suffered enough, chuckling at Lyneth's suggestion. "Silly girl. That's what a timer is for. I can bake a cake, you know," he added, a little indignantly. At least, he thought he could. How hard could it be, after all" He slid the second tin into the oven and shooed the gnomes away with a hand before closing the door and setting the timer.

"Finally," the brownie grumbled, and set about shooing all the other faery folk out of the kitchen so he could properly clean up. He pointed at Lyneth, looking up at Des. "I'm cleanin' in here. You clean her."

The little girl grinned, showing off her new front teeth in the process, and clapped her floury hands together. "Goodie," she declared cheerfully. "I can show you my water dollies!"

"Uh..." Des frowned worriedly as he looked between the pair, gesturing with one hand in a circular motion toward Lyneth, but addressing Oisin. "Can't you just....you know....wiggle your nose or something?" Tucking Lyneth into bed was one thing; giving her a bath was quite another. One look at Lyneth and it was obvious she was going to need a good cleaning from head to toe.

Oisin gave him a look that suggested he was behaving like a child. "You're gonna be her daddy' You gotta get used to it. Now shoo, you're in my way. You too, mutt." This was said pointedly toward Loki, who quite suddenly yelped and ran for it, crashing back out through the large flap in the back door as though someone had stuck him with something.

Oisin's remark stirred up a mixture of conflicted feelings for Des. There was pride that Lyneth wanted him to be her daddy, but that was mingled with the fear of failure. He was happy when he was in Rhy'Din - at least, most of the time - and Lyneth was part of that happiness. He found her childish innocence and honesty a refreshing change from what he dealt with back home on a daily basis, but this whole daddy thing was going to take a little getting used to. Still, the brownie was right. Maybe it was time Des put his money where his mouth was. He stretched out a hand toward the flour-covered little girl. "Come on, squirt. It's bath time."

She offered up a big smile, sliding her hand into his as soon as he offered it to her. "Don't you like bath time" I like bath time. I like getting all clean and squeaky and wearing my pajamas, and can I have hot chocolate after" I promise, no throwin' up this time, just hiccups." As she spoke, she toddled along beside him, releasing his hand to clamber up the stairs with hands and feet, leaving a trail of flour behind her. "Are you goin' to have a bath, too?"

He furrowed his brows as she rambled on, and he wondered if she hadn't had enough sugar for one day. How much sugar was too much sugar" He wasn't quite sure. He ran on coffee himself. He sighed as he noticed the trail of flour she was leaving behind - more mess for the poor brownie - and he scooped her up off the stairs, with a cluck of his tongue. "You are making a mess, little girl!" he declared in a tone that was nowhere near stern. "I think you may have had enough chocolate for one day, but if you're very good, you might be able to twist my arm." He held her against his chest as he made his way up the stairs, chuckling a little at her question. "Absolutely not. A shower maybe. Later. Not now."

"I am?" She looked back down the stairs between her own feet in the moments before he scooped her up, little feet kicking just for the hell of it to see little clouds of flour go wafting into the air as she grinned happily. "Why'd I want to twis' your arm' If I twis' your arm, it might come off an' then you can't make hot chocolate or gimme a bath or make the cake all pretty 'cos you'll be all bloody and hurty and probably inna hospital." Possibly there was such a thing as too much sugar, but then, it was a learning curve.

He laughed again as they reached the top of the stairs, turning to make his way toward the bathroom. "It's a figure of speech, Lyneth. It doesn't mean you should really twist my arm. It means you might be able to talk me into it." He wasn't sure why he was explaining all of this to her when there was a good chance she still wouldn't quite understand him. He came to a stop when they got to the bathroom, peering inside and feeling a little uncomfortable about the idea of giving her a bath, but he figured it was harmless enough and it was something he was going to have to get used to. "I....um..." he stammered as he paused in the doorway, unsure where to start. Of course, he knew how to take a bath, but not quite how to give one to a little girl.

She took pity on him as he hesitated in the doorway, offering up a helpful smile. "You gotta put water inna bath," she informed him, pointing helpfully at the taps. "And bubbles. Mine's in the pink bottle with the fairy on it - it's not a real fairy, just a pretend one, and it smells nice and makes me smell nice when I have a bath. And I can get my jammies an' my dollies."

"But what about..." He trailed off as she pointed out the obvious, stepping into the room and reaching for the pink bottle of bubble-bath. He and Piper hadn't gotten this far yet, and he wasn't sure they would. Not so long as there was a midget in the house who might overhear them. And suddenly Des had an idea. "Lyneth, has your mother mentioned any plans for Valentine's Day yet?" he asked, as he leaned over the tub and turned on the taps, running a hand beneath the water to check the temperature and adjust it until it was just right.

A loud giggle erupted from her as she scurried away, out of sight. "Noooo," was her answer to that query. "Mummy said you wasn't gonna be here an' I made a ....oops." She reappeared in the doorway, arms full of wild haired plastic dolls and what appeared to be her pajamas. She looked ever so slightly guilty. "I wasn't s'posed to say anythin' 'bout that."

"You made a oops?" he repeated, turning to look at her a moment as she scurried from the room. He wasn't sure what she meant by that. Did Piper have something planned or didn't she" He was pretty sure she wasn't seeing anyone else, so what was going on' He unscrewed the cap on the pink bottle and poured a generous amount under the running water, leaning over to swirl the mixture around a little to get it to bubble up. "Would you mind very much if I took her out for the evening?" he asked, not wanting to hurt the little girl's feelings, but there were times when adults needed adult time, and she'd have him for the rest of the weekend.

The little girl grinned widely, watching as the bubbles welled up under the spray of water, and leaned over the side of the bath, dropping her dollies in with a very wet splash. "The teachers at school said that on Vallumteens Day, boys and girls who like each other go out and get all giggly and they kiss lots," she informed Des with the air of a child with newfound wisdom on the matter. "An' you an' Mummy like kissin' an' stuff, so's you should go out an' do your kissin'."

Lyneth Granger

Date: 2013-02-14 17:02 EST
Des chuckled again as he was sprayed with water, running a hand under the water to recheck the temperature as the tub slowly filled with water and bubbles. He leaned back on his heels, both arms resting against the side of the tub as he turned to her to add a little to the explanation of the holiday. "Valentine's Day is a day to let the one you love know that you love them." And he loved Piper, though he'd only said it once. In point of fact, he loved Lyneth, too, but not in the same way that he loved Piper. "I'd just like to do something nice for your mother. She's been sad for too long. I want to make her happy. Do you understand, Lynnie?"

"Mummy doesn't cry so much no more," she offered up helpfully. "Not since you had a sleep over an', you know ....your little winky was out." This was declared in a stage whisper, overlaid with suddenly wild giggles as her cheeks lit up with a blush. "Me an' my friends could cook you dinner!" she suggested suddenly, far too enthusiastic about this idea, given the mess she and her friends had just made of the kitchen. "You wouldn' have to go out!"

He was just starting to get comfortable when she had to bring up his "winky". His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in shock. "My what"!" he exclaimed, breaking into laughter again. "You are a cheeky little girl," he told her, poking a finger at her side. "What do you know about winkies?" he asked, unsure if he really wanted to open that can of worms. He reached over to turn off the tap, frowning a little at her suggestion. How was he supposed to explain to her that he wanted to spend a little time alone with her mother without hurting her feelings"

"Boys has winkies and so does Loki and girls don't," Lyneth declared confidently. "And I know you got one, because I seed it under the blankets. It's not that little," she added as an afterthought, putting her clothes down on the close toilet lid. "And it's not floppy like the ones the boys at school have." Little fingers began to fumble with the buttons on her cardigan as she went on. "Why does you want to take Mummy out?"

There went that mouth of his again dropping open. He debated a response, explaining that she shouldn't be peeking under the covers at him and wondering how she knew what her schoolmates', er, winkies looked like, but he decided all of this was better left to Piper. And Piper was definitely going to hear about it. He let all of that go for now as he helped her with her buttons, brows furrowing further at her question. How did she manage to find ask such difficult questions" He thought about it a moment and then decided to give her the simplest and most honest answer he could think of. "Because I love her."

He was presented with wide eyes that were suddenly far older than her years, not only soft with understanding of the emotion he had confessed to, but pleased that it was love for her mother, who was sad too much of the time. The smile that accompanied those soft eyes was also older than it should be, a true Fae smile for a short moment. "Then why're you asking me?" she asked him quietly. "I love my Mummy, too. And she loves me, and you." The child flowed back into her eyes as she grinned suddenly. "Can Kaylee look after me?"

He stopped unbuttoning her cardigan when he saw the change in her, if only for a moment, and blinked in surprise. He'd never seen that look in her eyes before - like she understood so much more than she let on, and he wondered, not for the first time, what exactly it meant for her to be half Fae. "If Kaylee isn't busy, yes." He turned his attention back to unbuttoning her sweater, very gently easing it over her shoulders. "I haven't asked your mother yet." He frowned a little. "I've been having trouble getting away from work lately."

She wriggled to help him get her out of the cardigan, wiping her floury hands on the wool before it was set aside, and lifted her arms in a clear indication that he had to get her top and vest off by himself. "Mummy isn't busy," the tiny girl offered with another of those cheeky grins, her moment of Fae wisdom swept aside easily in the tide of childish enthusiasm that seemed to accompany every moment of her waking day. "Can I make her wear a pretty dress again? She doesn' wear dresses like proper girls do."

He set the floury wool cardigan aside, furrowing his brows as he realized he was going to have to do the rest himself. She was, after all, just a little girl. This was the sort of thing that Daddys and Mommys did, and though he wasn't her father, could never really be her father - at least, not in blood - he had promised they'd be a family, and he meant to keep that promise. He smiled a little at her question, feeling almost as though they were conspiring together against Piper, but it was only to make her happy, after all. "It depends on where I take her. What does she like?" He carefully lifted her top and vest up and over her arms and head, resisting the urge to tickle her again.

Lyneth re-emerged from the neck of her top and vest in a puff of flour, beaming at the feeling of importance that came with knowing that Des was asking her where to take her Mummy. "She likes dancin'," she offered up, scratching absently at an old scab on her elbow as she lifted up a foot to have her shoe untied and taken off. "An' she likes flowers an' books an' hist'ry. An' pretty places. An' me, an' you, an' Loki." She'd devolved into a general list of the things Piper liked now, but that was the risk you took when you asked general questions of a toddler.

Des coughed, waving a hand in front of his face to disperse the flour so neither of them would breathe it in. He felt bad for the brownie whom he knew wouldn't rest until the place was spic and span again. "Dancing?" he asked, arching a brow as he added her shirt and vest to the growing pile of dirty clothes. "Potted flowers or cut flowers?" he asked, remembering the roses he'd brought her a few weeks ago and wondering if the fairies would find them offensive. Dinner and dancing, he decided. Somewhere quiet and romantic. He slid a knee forward to allow her to rest her foot there while he untied her laces and removed her shoes, one at a time.

"The fairies will give you flowers for her if you ask them," the little girl pointed out, as though this was common sense and he really should have known that. "An' if you tell them they're for Mummy, they'll make them all pretty and so's they don't die and stuff." She leaned to peer into Des face, her nose scrunched in a sweet little smirk. "Silly Des, not knowin' that."

His mouth formed a silent, "Oh," as he took this all in, unable to stay serious for very long when that little face was staring into his and smirking. "Silly Lyneth for not telling me," he countered, leaning forward to rub noses with her. "Now, is the princess ready for her bath before it gets cold?" he asked with a happy grin. She wasn't quite undressed completely yet, but that would soon be remedied.

She broke out into her familiar little giggle again, wiggling her fingers in his face. "I still got my trousies on!" Skirt and leggings, to be exact, but "trousers" was a new word for her, and she was enjoying constantly getting it wrong. "An' you're all dusty and stuff, too. You need a barf."

"A bath," he corrected with a chuckle and a tweak of her cute little button nose. Because a barf was something entirely different and not at all pleasant. "All right then. Let's get your trousies off and get you into the tub!" he declared, as if she needed warning. He set her shoes and socks aside and wiggled her out of her skirt and leggings, tickling her as he did, more for his own sake than for hers. He didn't really have any experience with kids, but he was learning.

The wriggling that ensued as he finished undressing her with tickles certainly made for an interesting experience as the tiny girl flailed and squeaked, giving him an embarrassingly nude hug and kiss before lifting her arms up again. "Gotta get inna barf," she informed him, deliberately getting the word wrong this time just for the sake of fun. A slightly frustrated look crossed her face as she contemplated how high the side of the bath was compared to her. "Should I get bigger so's I can do it myself?"

Lyneth Granger

Date: 2013-02-14 17:04 EST
Des giggled along with her as he finally got the wriggling girl out of her clothes and she rewarded him with a hug and kiss that about melted his cold, cynical heart. "Stay little as long as you can. You'll get bigger soon enough," he replied. An odd thing to say maybe, but he was in no hurry for her to grow up just yet. "Ready' Time for your barf!" he exclaimed, scooping her up under her arms before waiting for an answer and swinging her to and fro for a moment before he splashed her down in the middle of the bubbles.

Another peal of giggles described her arc from the floor to the bubbles, which erupted around her in a cloud of sparkling white as she huffed and puffed them toward Des with a wide grin. "Thank you!" Evidently the water was just right, for there were no complaints, and pretty soon the little girl was rooting around beneath the bubbles for the armful of dollies she'd dumped into the water as it was filling. "D'you want to play with my dollies?" she asked, holding up one particularly wild-haired one that had obviously seen better days. "This one's Kaylee, she's naughty. An' this one is Maggie, 'cos Maggie's lots of fun, an' this one ..." She rummaged about for a moment before producing what looked like a princess who'd been in a fight with Loki and lost. "She's Princess Elvira. Mummy named her."

Once Lyneth was in the tub, Des blew out a sigh of relief, hunkering down beside the tub to find himself being introduced to a very soggy trio of fashion dolls. "Elvira?" he echoed, arching a brow, finding that an odd name for a doll. Kaylee he got, though he wondered just what Lyneth's idea of naughty was. He wasn't so sure about Maggie. "What's so much fun about Maggie?" he asked, taking a break for a moment before he suggested washing her flour-coated hair.

"Maggie's at my school," Lyneth informed him, dunking Elvira in and out of the bubbles before proceeding to "wash" the doll's hair with clumsy fingers. "An' she's really fun an' she knows lots of things an' she's really brave an' everything." She looked up at Des curiously. "Her auntie is one of the teachers an' she's gettin' marry, an' Mummy says if I'm good, I can make somethin' for them."

Des listened as Lyneth rambled on, telling him more about school than he expected to hear, taking it all in. Despite the innocence of her ramblings, Des had discovered he could learn a lot by listening to Lyneth. Everything she said was important, to some degree or other. Maybe that was what made him different from other adults - he actually listened when she spoke to him, not just to the words but to the meaning behind what she was trying to tell him. "What makes Maggie so brave?" he asked, encouraging her to go on as he reached for the bottle of shampoo - the tear-free one.

"Lots of stuff," was the supremely unhelpful answer, but Lyneth didn't often stay unhelpful for long. She ducked her head under the water to wet her hair through, coming up spluttering enough to splash Des and soak his shirt before she went on. "She's not shy at all. On my firs' day, she got me to play with the others, an' if she hadn't, I wouldn' know anyone. An' she's not scared when sometimes the things we do goes wrong, an' she's really brave when people are mean."

Startled by the splash of water, he recoiled a moment, before chuckling again. It seemed he was getting a barf whether he wanted one or not. "They're teaching you how to use your magic, right?" he asked, curiously. He came from a world where people didn't believe in magic, whether it was real or not. Now that he'd been to Rhy'Din, he found his own world rather dismal and boring, though he wasn't quite sure exactly where he fit into Rhy'Din yet. He squeezed out a dollop of baby shampoo onto his palm, leaning forward to massage it into Lyneth's hair.

She nodded, making the application of the shampoo a little more difficult than was entirely necessary, squeezing her eyes shut just in case any of the suds wandered down her face. "'Cos I don't know much 'bout what I can do, an' there's lots of things I have to know, an' I want to help Mummy, not make her worry all the time," she offered up from that scrunched up little face. "An' there's lots an' lots that big Fae can do, an' I want to know how to do it, too."

He massaged the shampoo into her hair with surprisingly gentle fingers while she explained. "Lynnie, what exactly can Fae do' I mean, I don't know much about them." He had done a little research on the subject back in New York, but he wasn't sure how much he'd read was accurate or just made up from legend and myth.

"Looshuns," was the simple answer, although it probably took some working out to decide what she actually meant with that horrific attempt at what most adults would consider a simple word. "They make stuff look diff'rent, like people an' places' an' they play tricks, an' the bad ones like upsettin' people like Mummy and you. But Mummy says that 'cos I'm only half, I got real magic, too. She says that's why I can make stuff grow an' it's real an' not a looshun."

It took a moment for Desmond to work out what she meant, but he was growing more accustomed to Lyneth with each passing day. was bath and looshuns was illusions. He understood that much. Done with the shampooing, he looked around for a cup so he could rinse her hair out, wondering if she just wanted to duck again. "Rinse!" he exclaimed, pulling back this time so he didn't get soaked.

Still with her eyes tight shut, she squeezed her little fists over them for extra protection, waiting patiently for the splash of water over her head that would wash the soap out of her surprisingly long hair. But then, most one-year-olds couldn't speak, walk, or do most of the things that Lyneth could do, so long hair was hardly a surprise. She spluttered, spitting out a mouthful of soapy water as she rubbed her eyes, pushing her hair out of her face with those fists to blink up at Des. "I can' fly yet."

"Fly?" Des echoed, arching a brow as he rinsed her hair out, stroking her hair with his fingers to make sure he got all the soap out. Giving her a bath was so far turning out to be easier than he'd expected, even if he was half soaked himself. He perked an ear for the timer on the oven, knowing they only had a half hour before the cakes were done. "Your mother showed me her..." He broke off, searching for the proper word for the tattoo Piper wore on the small of her back. "Her mark. For protection. If I get one, will it protect me against illusions?"

Again, the tiny girl nodded, understanding far more about this side of herself than Piper was truly aware of. But then, she had spent a summer in the company of another Fae who had wanted to make sure she could look after herself and her mother if she had to. "Yup. You'll see the looshuns, but you'll see the real thing at the same time, like on top of each other, like in Mummy's pretty dresses books that she uses to make my pretty dresses." It wasn't a great analogy, given that the pattern book was mostly tracing paper over the pictures, but if Des could work out what "looshuns" meant, he could follow this.

He chewed on the inside of his mouth as he considered this. He'd been thinking about getting a tattoo to match Piper's since he'd decided to move here, but with the case looming over his head, he hadn't quite found the time to do it yet. He knew he was going to have to make it a priority if he wanted to be part of Piper and Lyneth's life, if not for his protection, then for theirs. "What else can they do?" he asked, as he leaned back on his heels, arms resting casually against the side of the tub.

Lyneth's face settled into that older than her years expression once again, thoughtful as she considered the answer to this question. "They can put the 'fluence on you," she offered up, scratching that old scab again, unintentionally breaking it open to bleed a little into the bath. "Ow ....You know, make you do stuff and think it's your idea. Like what the bad Fae did to Mummy to make me. An' they can control, like, the lellyments ....like the water, or the fire. I got the Erfy one, with plants an' fairies an' trees an' stuff."

He frowned as she broke her scab open, so much like a child and yet so much more all at the same time. "Lynnie, don't..." He reached into the water to very gently wash the wound clean as she continued with her explanation. "If I get a mark like....like your Mummy's, will it protect me against....against that, too' Them influencing me?" he asked further. He needed to know these things and for some reason found he'd rather ask Lyneth than Piper.

Lyneth Granger

Date: 2013-02-14 17:06 EST
She nodded again, hissing a little bit as the water stung in her little wound. "That hurts," she complained with a very childlike frown, before returning her attention to answering his question. "Mummy knows more 'bout the way it works, but she knew all about the Ollie in the summer not being Ollie, but bein' a Fae, an' that was 'cos of her shieldy thing."

"I'm sorry," he apologized with a frown. "Don't pick at it!" he warned, leaning down to brush a kiss very close to her little wound in hopes of making it all better, or at the very least in showing her he cared. "Oh," he replied, listening, knowing some of this already from what Piper had told him. "Lynnie?" he started, a thoughtful look on his face. There was one last thing he wanted and needed to know, at least, for now. "What would you say if I told you I wanted to marry your mother?" He knew Piper wasn't ready yet, and maybe wouldn't be for a long time, but he'd promised they'd be a family, and it seemed to go without saying that they'd eventually want to make it official.

She beamed up at him as he kissed her elbow, holding up a handful of bubbles to paint his face with eyebrows and a beard. "Can I wear a pretty dress?" was her very girly response to his careful probing for an answer. And it was an answer in itself. She didn't consider it a question that needed to be asked; they'd already told her they were going to be a family, which obviously meant that Mummy and Des would be getting married sometime when Mummy stopped being scared of chasing him away.

He smirked as she painted him in bubbles, seemingly unfazed by the implications of his question, though her mother was a different story. "It's kind of a requirement," he replied. Deciding there had been enough serious talk for now, he shook his head from side to side, flinging the bubbles on his face around the tub. "Now, we have a cake to check on, and I promised someone some cocoa before bed." He poked her nose and moved to his feet to open the cabinet and pull out a fresh towel.

"Can I dec'rate it, too?" the tiny girl asked, flailing to shake the bubbles off her hands as she reached to pull the plug from the hole and let the water drain away. Evidently Piper had her pretty well trained with bath-time, because the next thing she did was locate her dollies and stand them in the bath tidy to dry before carefully getting to her feet. "Can we make it a flower" An' can we have potatoes for dinner?"

"Um..." That was a lot of questions for Des to answer all at once. "I'm not really sure how to decorate a cake. Do you think your fairy friends can help with that?" He leaned close to wrap the towel around her and scoop her up out of the tub and onto a rug, settling himself on his knees so he could rub her dry. "What do you want to go with your potatoes?" he asked, as he gently rubbed her back.

Swaying with the motion of him rubbing her dry, Lyneth considered this question with as much concentration as she would have done had someone asked her about how to obtain world peace. "Peas," was what she finally came up with - not the most informative of responses, but it at least answered the question. "D'you think my friends will let me sugar their flowers if I ask really nicely' Only Mummy said you can eat violets, and she likes violets, and it's Februrary, an' violets is a special flower for Februrary."

He smiled a little at the one two many Rs in February. "Okay, potatoes and peas, that's a start." There would have to something more to her dinner than that, but he was sure there was something in the fridge he could whip up. "Your mother likes violets?" he asked, looking for confirmation. Dinner, dancing, and violets, he thought to himself. "I don't know what your friends will say about that, but if you ask nicely, I don't see how they could say no." Once he had patted her dry, he lifted the towel to do the same to her hair before tossing the towel aside and reaching around for the pajamas she'd left on top of the toilet.

"Violets an' teeny roses," Lyneth nodded, confirming the information he was looking for. Her hair was already drying by itself, leaving her sweet face surrounded by flyaway strands that were on the verge of standing upright from her head before he turned his attention to it. Afterward, it was possibly worse. She held her hands up above her head to let him get her into her pajama top, fingers wiggling patiently. "When's Mummy comin' home?"

He'd take care of those flyaway hairs just as soon as he had her dressed so she wouldn't catch a chill. Her question made him frown a little thoughtfully. "I'm not really sure, but I don't think it will be too late. Do you want to wait up to say goodnight?" He carefully pulled the top over her head and guided her arms into the armholes, making ever more of a mess of her hair, but he'd fix that soon enough.

Never ask a child if they want to stay up. Lyneth's face creased into a delighted smile that would just make it that much harder to send her to bed if Piper was late, and she nodded happily. "Can I" Please, please, please" Mummy'll be so surprised!" She giggled happily, pulling her PJ bottoms from the lid of the toilet and thrusting a foot hard into one leg. And, naturally, she over-balanced, toppling head first into Des' lap.

"Easy there, munchkin!" He grinned as he caught her in his arms, pulling her onto his lap to help her get the pajama bottoms on without falling arse over teakettle. "You can stay up so long as it isn't too late," he promised, not overly worried about it. He knew if she got tired, she'd more than likely fall asleep anyway, and then he'd just carry her to bed and tuck her in until morning. Though he wouldn't be staying long. It was Sunday and he was due back in the office the next morning, especially if he was going to get away early for Valentine's Day. Once she was dressed, he set her on her feet again. "Do you know where your Mummy keeps a comb?"

More giggles abounded as she was set upright once again, this time holding onto his shoulder as he helped her get into her pajamas. His amendment of the agreement to stay up got a pout, before he distracted her with a fresh question. "In her bag," the little girl told him confidently. "An' Loki's got a brush in the cabinet downstairs with his wormy tablits." She plunked herself down on her rear end to pull her slippers on, thankfully something she could manage by herself without too much help. "Do I have worms?"

"In her bag?" he echoed, pulling open drawers in hopes of locating a comb or brush to get the tangles out of Lyneth's hair. He'd always brought his own toiletries with him when he visited and had never really poked around in Piper's bathroom too much. He laughed in amusement at her question as he searched. "No! Of course not. Unless they're gummi worms," he added with a smirk, unsure if she'd ever had them before. Piper was really going to kill him for indulging her daughter's sweet tooth. He did manage to find Band-Aids and pulled out of the pack. "Come here, gummi worm," he said, plunking himself down on the toilet lid and holding out the bandage. "Pull up your sleeve."

In the process of hugging her dressing gown to herself, Lyneth looked up at his instruction, making a face at the little sticky plaster he was proposing to stick on her. "Do I has to?" she asked plaintively. "They hurt when they come off." Never mind that the little open scab was threatening to bleed through the sleeve of her PJs.

"Yes, you has to," he said as sternly as he could muster, which was not very sternly at all. "Otherwise it might get infected," he explained, unsure if she'd understand that, holding the little plastic bandage out and waiting for her to show him her booboo so he could cover it up and protect it at least for one night.

The look that got would have been imposing on an adult face. On Lyneth's sweet little face, though, it was just another degree of comical. She sighed exaggeratedly, holding out her arm as her turquoise eyes rolled to the ceiling. "You sound like Mummy."

Lyneth Granger

Date: 2013-02-14 17:07 EST
She said that like it was a bad thing, but he knew it wasn't. "Your Mummy loves you very much," he told her as he stuck the bandage over the little wound on her elbow. And so do I, he admitted secretly. He thought it went without saying, but he knew no matter how fond he might be of her, it was nothing compared to a mother's love. He frowned a little, his thoughts turning quietly to his own mother.

Pulling a face as the little band-aid was stuck down over her tiny wound, Lyneth shook her sleeve back down, going back to cuddling her thick dressing gown as her wide eyes turned to watch Des' expression change. "Is you sad, Des?" she asked, her little voice quiet as she inched closer to look up into his face. "Don't be sad. Mummy loves you, and I love you, and Loki loves you, and Uncle Jon and Auntie Vicki and Auntie Caro and Uncle Correy and Auntie Lena and Kaylee and Grampa Humpy love you too."

He smiled, though the smile was tainted with a little sadness. It hadn't been all that long ago that he'd said goodbye to his mother, and though he was healing, it would take time before he could think of her without feeling sad. He doubted the litany of names she rolled off loved him the way he defined the word. He knew he had a long way to go before he earned his family's trust, much less their love, but he was content for now to have at least won the hearts of Piper and Lyneth. "I know. I'm okay. I can't stay sad for long when I'm around you or your Mum." That much was true. "We need to find a comb before your hair dries in knots," he said, changing the subject, leaning over to toss the scraps of paper from the bandage in the trash.

"Mummy has a hair bwush," the little girl offered, finally coming up with something helpful even as she cuddled into him, dampening his shirt further with her damp hair as she hugged him. "Brush," she corrected herself - apparently this was one word, at least, that Piper was winning the battle over. "It's in her bedroom. Inna box on top of her diary. Do you want to read her diary' I won't tell."

He hugged her back, pausing a moment to draw some comfort from that small show of affection, tilting his head to press a kiss against her forehead, a small smile as she corrected her own pronunciation of the word. He swung her up into his arms as he moved to his feet to go fetch the brush, furrowing his brows down at her question. As tempting as the thought might be, he was far too honest to be able to do such a thing without it prickling as his conscience. That honesty was what in good part what had turned him to law in the first place. "No, those are your mother's private thoughts. It wouldn't be right."

She nodded with a sigh, following him out onto the landing. "I s'pose I have to learn to read for myself, then," she declared mournfully, disappearing into her own bedroom for a moment before returning with Teddy Rabbit bouncing along on the floor behind her, dragged by one ear.

There was that frown again, accompanied by a sigh, and he knew he was going to have to talk to her again and explain why she couldn't and shouldn't read her mother's diary. Others might not worry about her learning to read for years yet, but somehow, he knew once Lyneth got it stuck in her head that she was going to do something, she was going to figure out a way to do it, no matter what. He waited for her to return with her stuffed rabbit before taking her by the hand and leading her into the room he shared with her mother to fetch her hair brush.

He silently led her into the room, trying to formulate the right words to explain why she shouldn't read her mother's diary, stopping in front of Piper's dresser to retrieve the hair brush, which was the only reason they were there, in the first place. He glanced at the diary that he'd never seemed to notice before, but didn't so much as touch it, taking the brush and moving to sit on the edge of the bed, drawing Lyneth along with him so he could brush her hair. "Lynnie, there are....some things that people like to keep private. Secret even."

Following quietly along behind him, Lyneth seemed to sense she'd said something wrong, waiting until he'd released her hand before lifting her rabbit off the floor to hug it close, pressing her mouth against the plush head. Drawn between Des' knees so he could brush her hair, she felt the unspoken scolding more deeply than if he had told her off in so many words, swallowing a little as her cheeks flushed with shame. "M'sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry, sweetheart. I know you care about your mother. I know you love her more than anything. It's just....some things aren't meant to be shared. Some things are private." He sighed as he set the brush to her hair and slowly pulled it through the tangles, careful not to tug too hard. "It's hard to explain."

"But why does she write them down if she doesn't want anyone to read them?" the little girl asked, and from a certain point of view, it was a pertinent question. Of course, Piper's diary wasn't so much a diary as the ongoing saga of Lyneth's lifetime, but the little half-Fae didn't know that. "I don't want Mummy to keep secrets from me." Blissfully ignoring, of course, the months Lyneth herself had kept a certain secret from her mother.

"Because..." He had to think about that a moment. He'd never been much of a journal writer. He'd never had much time for that sort of thing, but his mother had been. Now that she was gone, there was nothing stopping him from reading her journals, but he wasn't sure he ever would. Instead, they were carefully kept in a box in his bedroom closet where they'd safely stay until he gathered the courage to read them, if he ever did. "Because they're like memories. They help her remember things, like when you were born, when you got your first tooth. But not all of her memories are good ones. Sometimes people write down bad memories so they remember to not let them happen again." He wasn't sure if he was doing a very good job of explaining, but he hoped she'd try to understand a little. He smoothed her hand with one hand while he drew the brush through it with the other, wondering where all the fairies had gotten to now that the baking was nearly finished.

"But why is it secret?" The ever-present "why" of the enquiring child's mind had tripped up even the most experienced of parents. Piper had already warned Des not to try and answer anything he felt completely stumped on, since Lyneth had a distressing habit of repeating him verbatim to her mother anyway. The tiny girl twisted about as she looked up at Des. "An' if it's memories, why does she put pictures an' flowers an' other things in it, too' Look." She pointed at the green leather-bound journal, which was thick with inserted pages and various other bits and pieces.

He lowered the brush as she turned to face him and glanced over at the journal rested on the dresser, tempting them both. "Those are called mementos, Lyneth. They're things you keep to remind you of other things. Like..." He tried to come up with an example. "Like a pressed flower from a date. Or..." He reached to curl a strand of her hair around a fingertip. "A lock of hair from someone you love." He was used to spending long amounts of time asking and answering questions, and she had yet to test his patience. But the same couldn't be said for the cake, as the timer beeped letting them know it was done.

His explanation seemed to have done the trick, bringing a smile to her face as he twisted her hair about his finger. That is, until the timer made itself known from downstairs. Panicked exhilaration suddenly painted her face as Lyneth jumped up and down, making the boards beneath the carpet thunk. "It's ready! It's ready! Don't let it burn!" Her hands reached out to grasp Des', tugging hard to pull him onto his feet as she lurched toward the doorway. "Burned cake is horrible!"

Saved by the timer, Des climbed to his feet, smiling again as the mood shifted and she tugged him toward the stairs. He dropped the hair brush off on the dresser before he scooped her up again, along with her stuffed rabbit and started down the hall, hurrying down the stairs to the kitchen with the bundle of little girl. He'd worry about cleaning up the bathroom later, after he'd showered.

Oisin the brownie had evidently been busy while they were upstairs. The downstairs was spotless, no sign of flour or the disaster area they'd left in the kitchen. Even Loki had been groomed and fed, and was curled up in front of the fire dreaming doggie dreams as Des hurried through the living room with Lyneth caught up in his arms. The kitchen was close to sparkling, the scent of vanilla sponge filling the room, and to cap off the work of the afternoon, there was a wire cooling rack just waiting to have the two layers of cake tipped onto it. A round of tinier giggles marked the progress of the human into the kitchen, evidence that the other faery folk hadn't gone far after their adventures into baking.

Lyneth Granger

Date: 2013-02-14 17:09 EST
Desmond felt both relieved and a little disconcerted to hear the round of giggles, feeling a little bit like a fish in a bowl, everything he did under scrutiny, at least when it came to Lyneth, but he made no complaints. So far at least, it seemed they'd forgiven him his earlier transgressions and had accepted and welcomed him into their household, and he couldn't very well complain about the fact that the kitchen was now spotless. Until the next mess anyway. He set Lyneth on a chair with a mumbled, "Stay put!" while he went to retrieve the cakes from the oven and turn them out on the rack to cool.

One thing he could be grateful for was the fact that no faery was allowed into Piper's bedroom while there was anyone in it, a rule which had yet to be broken and didn't seem destined to be ignored, since Lyneth was the one who had laid it down. Set down on a chair, she grinned excitedly, rising up onto her knees with little hands planted on the table to crane over and watch as the cakes came out of the oven. "Oooh, they smell yummy."

Baking the cakes had produced a floury mess, and in his mind, he was imagining Lyneth covered in gooey frosting next and needing another bath. But first things first. The cakes had to cool, and he needed to make something for dinner. He wondered if Piper would be home before then or if they were on their own, but didn't want to call her to ask. "How does a vegetable quiche sound to you?" he asked, unsure if she'd ever had one. Yes, he could cook and bake and give little girls baths and if pressed, he could even wash windows.

"Does it go with 'tatoes and peas?" This was offered up in a slightly muffled tone, given that Lyneth was now leaning as far over the cooling cakes as possible, barely half an inch away from resting her little button nose precisely in the center of one of them. The charitable would say she was enjoying the smell; any parent would spot a sneak thief at work.

Unfortunately for both of them, he wasn't quite a parent yet and no expert on children, but he did shoo her back with the wave of a hand. "Careful, they're hot." And with that, he turned to go into the fridge to search for the necessary ingredients to make a quiche. "No, but it has 'tatoes and peas in it!" he said as he pulled various vegetables from Piper's refrigerator.

Grudgingly giving ground when he waved her away, she thumped down onto her backside once again, lifting her stuffed rabbit onto her lap to play with his ears as she watched Des cooking. "What's quiche?" she asked curiously, blowing a hank of dry hair out of her eyes as she studied him thoughtfully. "Is it like cake?"

"Not really," he replied as he gathered up what he could find. Potatoes, carrots, peas, onions, eggs, cheese. "It's more like a pie, sort of, but without a crust. How about if we just call it 'Tater and Pea Surprise?" he asked, winking over at her as he dumped the quiche supplies out on the counter.

Lyneth giggled at that, turquoise eyes lighting up with interest as the various ingredients were laid out on the table. "Can I help?" she asked hopefully, followed by a small chorus of tiny voices asking exactly the same question from the windowsill covered in potted plants behind him.

He turned his head to find a gaggle of fairies ready and willing to help cook dinner. "Um, sure..." Though he wasn't quite sure what he was going to have them do. "First we have to cut up and cook the vegetables, and then we add them to the egg mixture, and bake." That was a very simplified explanation but would have to do for now. Des thought if he handed over the mixing of the egg mixture to Lyneth, it would be barf, er, bath time all over again. What could he give her to do that wouldn't get her into too much trouble"

Barely a moment after he gave his assent to their helping him, the air around Des' head was filled with flitting shapes of all colors, eager to be useful. Sadly, he'd never seen Piper deal with this sort of enthusiasm, and Lyneth certainly wasn't going to offer any hints. The little girl was kneeling up on her chair again, leaning hopefully forward as one hand snuck toward the cakes cooling nearby.

Distracted by the flutter of fairies suddenly swarming around his head, he didn't notice Lyneth's fingers sneakily inching toward the cake and even if he had, he might not have scolded her. He just didn't have it in his heart to scold her, unless it was absolutely necessary. He blinked at the flutter of fairies that were suddenly surrounding him, unsure what to do about it and wishing he'd paid more attention to fairy tales when he was a boy. "Lynnie, would you like to shell some peas while I peel the potatoes" The rest of you..." He frowned, looking a little out of his comfort zone and wishing Lyneth would tell him what to do.

Thanks to that little distraction, she managed to sneak a good finger's worth of the warm cake, nibbling it down hurriedly before she answered Des' mildly uncertain query. "They can help me," she offered through a decidedly cheeky smile, having left a hole for all the world to see in the cake she'd just defaced. "What do we do?"

He grabbed the bag of peas he'd found in the fridge, hoping Piper didn't already have plans for them. Once he moved in, they were going to have to meal plan so that they were both on the same page. The quiche he had in mind, however, would make enough to last another day and only need reheating, saving her from cooking. He opened the bag and set it on the table in front of Lyneth, narrowing his eyes as he noticed a hole in the cake. "Did you..." He broke off, furrowing his brows at the cake, before turning a smirk at her. "You're lucky you're cute," he told her with a wink, unable to get to upset with her. He shoved a hand in the bag and pulled out a pod, showing her how to open it, dumping the freed peas into one hand and then into a bowl. "See" Like that."

Caught out, Lyneth didn't offer up even a scrap of guilt, simply grinning like the cat that got the cream at his less than stellar telling off. "Am I cute like Mummy?" she asked, watching carefully as he showed her how to shell the peas. One little hand reached out to take a pod from the bag, and after a little struggle, popped the peas out, sending them skidding across the table. "Whoops!"

He laughed, helping her catch the peas this first time, but then leaving her and the fairies to it and turning his attention to the chore of peeling and cutting up potatoes. "No, you're cute like Lyneth," he replied as he went to work.

"And Mummy isn't cute?" He should have seen that one coming. Despite the fact that she'd asked the question, the little girl's eyes were on the next pod in her hands as she struggled to open it. This time, it burst open, sending the peas inside shooting into the air. There was a flash of movement, and the escaping vegetables were caught in mid-flight by giggling fairies, who had evidently just found their role in the food preparation process.

He paused in his peeling and slicing to think about that a moment. His eyes followed the flight of the peas for a moment, smiling again as the fairies found something useful to do. If anyone back home had told him he'd be doing this six months ago, he'd have asked them what they were smoking. "Your Mummy is..." He paused a moment in thought. "She's cute, but she's more than that."

Tongue sticking out through her lips as she concentrated, another flight of peas sailed through the air, fielded masterfully by giggling winged folk, before Lyneth looked up, blinking those big eyes of hers as she considered Des' answer. "More than cute?" she asked curiously. "More than me?"

"Remind me to teach them how to play baseball," he idly remarked, watching a pea sail through the air before the fly ball was caught in mid-air. "No, that's not what I mean." He sighed again at yet another difficult question from the little girl. "Not more than you, just different."

"What do you mean, then?" If he'd thought to ask, Lyneth would have told him why she always pushed the topic as far as it would go. It was because, of all the people she knew, Des and Piper were the only ones who told the truth as far as they could, both managing to preserve a certain state of innocence in the little girl who was such a huge part of their lives. Thus, when the topic turned to one or the other of them, she wanted to know everything they could possibly tell her. Which was why she had known they were in love before they'd even told each other.

Lyneth Granger

Date: 2013-02-14 17:11 EST
"It's hard to explain, Lynnie," he started as he finished peeling a potato and dropped it into a pan of water he'd filled before he'd started. There was that thoughtful look on his face again, as he tried to put his feelings into words. He was more accustomed to asking the questions, rather than answering them. "I never met anyone like your mother before. She's....she's beautiful and kind and caring and..." He broke off. And sad, he thought, though not so much anymore. "I just want to make her happy, Lyneth. Both of you."

There was a soft ping as an escaping pea managed to evade the fairy buzzing after it to bounce off the tiles on the wall in the quiet that followed his explanation. Lyneth blinked slowly, understanding perhaps more about the way Des felt than he did at present. Her first emotion, the first sense of belonging she had ever had in this world had been during the act of being born, when she had wrapped her mother in that love to give her strength to go on. She knew how Des saw Piper, and also knew that Piper saw him not so very differently. "You do make her happy," she said softly, that old soul wisdom in her eyes once again. "But she's always going to be a little bit sad, Des. It's part of what makes her beautiful."

"What?" he asked, lifting his head from his task, her voice pulling him out of his thoughts. There was something different about her, different about the way she'd said that, older, more serious. He'd thought he'd caught a glimpse of it earlier, but had dismissed it as his imagination. He frowned over at her, both at his confusion and the thought of Piper's sadness. "But I want to make her happy," he said, his own voice changing, from the self-assured adult to the worried lover.

"You do," she assured him gently, the sweet little girl's smile somehow out of place on her face for the time being as those old eyes met his gaze. "She is happy when she's with you. But she's a little bit sad too, all the time. Only a little bit. Sometimes, when you get hurt, it leaves a mark on your heart. Mummy bruises easily and doesn't heal fast. But scars heal over and they can be ignored. Just never forgotten completely." She glanced down, sending yet more peas spinning through the air to be caught by the suddenly silent and attentive fairies flitting back and forth. "Like your hurt, for your mother."

His expression underwent several changes, from surprise and wonder to confusion and acceptance and lastly to that sadness of his own that made his heart ache, no matter how hard he tried to hide it and was slowly healing. "I don't want to talk about that," he said, as he turned his eyes back to the potatoes, though the knife sat unmoving in his hand as he found his sight grow blurry with unshed tears he refused to acknowledge. He wasn't sure exactly what was going on with Lyneth, but though she was a child, she was much more than that. He'd known it for a long time and had even said as much to Piper, who'd seemed almost insulted that he'd thought it necessary to remind her of it.

"You should." All movement ceased for a long moment as this strangely adult Lyneth let the silence last, giving him time and space to draw himself back under control. "Not to me. But people share their hurts with the ones they love, and it makes it easier to bear. Mummy did it with you. Don't you think it's time you did the same with her?"

He wiped the back of one hand across his eyes, wondering just who he was talking to, who Lyneth really was, how she could be just a little girl one minute and then be so wise the next. "I did," he said. "She knows." Or at least she knew a little, as much as he was able to tell her without it hurting too much. "My life back home..." He shrugged before returning to his peeling. "There's nothing left for me there anymore. My life is here..." He lifted his head to look over at her, eyes shining suspiciously. "With you and Piper."

"Then it's about time you moved in, isn't it?" she declared, and just like that, with an abrupt shift in mood, she was the cheeky little girl again, deliberately aiming her peas now at him as she burst open the pod. "Don't we have enough of these yet?"

The onslaught of peas took him by surprise, but did the trick, distracting him from his grief and making him laugh again, even through the threat of tears. He ducked, but still took a few peas in the chest, waggling the knife at her. "I should give you a good spanking, young lady." Of course, it was an empty threat. There was little danger of him ever lifting a hand to her.

"What's spanking?" And there was the sweet, innocent child grinning over at him, daring him to explain in detail just exactly what it was he was proposing to do to her if she crossed the line again, though of course, he was never likely to go through with it. Tongue sticking out of her mouth again, she lifted the next pod to eye level and very obviously aimed it right at him.

"You don't want to find out," he said with a smirk, narrowing his eyes at her as she aimed the next pod at him. "Don't you dare!" he warned her, though there was little authority in it, waggling the knife at her. If they kept on this way, they'd never have dinner made and the kitchen would be a mess again.

Fortunately for Des, the pod was refusing to open. Unfortunately for Des, Lyneth had little flying allies, most of whom were still holding peas of their own. As she huffed at her pod, struggling to convince it to open, the fairies opened fire, pelting the adult human with peas and filling the air with wild laughter, until a small roar erupted from the sink.

Oisin rose from the soap suds like Venus from the waves, shaking his fist at the fairies. "You bleedin' little perishers!"

Des ducked against, holding up the knife like a baseball bat to deflect some of those peas, breaking into a fit of laughter as some of them hit him and bounced off while others missed him all together. He held up a hand in submission. "I give, I give! How about we order a pizza instead" Sorry, Oisin!" he called to the fairy as he set the knife on the counter. Maybe they should focus their efforts on decorating the cake instead.

Chastised by the irate brownie, the fairies huddled together in mid-air, apologetic giggles offered his way as he grumped back to washing the dishes, muttering about humans and fairies and fae-children. Lyneth snickered, just about remembering to cover her mouth with her hand as she mumbled an apology to her friend. Turquoise eyes looked up at Des. "Will Mummy be home soon' Maybe she can get the pizza."

"Shall we call her on the phone?" he asked, deciding to take a chance at bothering Piper at the party, if only to find out how long she was going to be. They still had a cake to decorate and it wouldn't be much of a surprise if she walked in before it was ready.

The little face lit up happily. "Yes! An' tell her to come home!" One slippered foot stamped on the seat of the chair she was standing on, which wobbled. Little hands clutched at the edge of the table as the fairies swooped to keep their fae-child out of harm's way. Giggling, Lyneth waved them away, wiggling her fingers at Des. "Can I call her" Can I?"

When could Des ever tell her no' He wiped a hand on a towel and reached into his jeans - yes, he was dressed down and wearing jeans - to pull out his cell phone. He scrolled down until he found Piper's number and handed the phone to Lyneth. "Don't tell her about the mess," he said as he went about gathering the quiche ingredients up and returning them to the refrigerator.

Letting out a happy "squee" at the prospect of being given sole possession of a precious cell phone, even for just one call, Lyneth thumped down onto her backside as she reached out for it, pressing the call button and holding it to her ear as it rang. She watched Des moving around the kitchen tidying up, jumping with excited surprise when her mother's voice was suddenly audible in her ear.

"Mummy' Hello, Mummy! Des gave me his phone!" There was a pause, during which an indistinct but apparently quite amused Piper corrected her daughter, and Lyneth got straight down to the meat of the phone call. "Mummy, Des says he really wants pizza," she lied cheerfully, shamelessly unafraid to be caught out. "An' we don't have any, an' we don't know if you're goin' to be home in time, an' if you are goin' to be home in time, maybe you can get it on your way home. Are you comin' home soon?"

Lyneth Granger

Date: 2013-02-14 17:14 EST
"Lent," Des corrected as he re-stowed vegetables in the fridge and went about clearing up dishes and setting them in the sink. "Are you all right in there?" he asked, peering into the sudsy dishwater where he'd last seen the brownie disappear. He rolled his eyes a little when he overheard Lyneth schmoozing her mother, but he didn't correct her further, assuming Piper knew her daughter well enough to know when she was being schmoozed.

The ugly little face rose out of the suds, peering up at him suspiciously. "Why, you plannin' on makin' more mess?" Oisin asked grumpily. He was a bit of a crotchety brownie, but no one in the house minded. He enjoyed tidying up after them, and he was a godsend when it came to keeping on top of Lyneth and Loki's accumulated mess.

"....an' mush'ooms an' peas an' toona an' ..." The list of toppings coming from the other side of the kitchen was promising a pizza so heavy on top it would be a miracle if anyone managed to lift a single slice.

Desmond made a face as he overheard Lyneth placing her pizza order with Piper. "Lyneth, no tuna. Not on pizza. That's disgusting. Just tell her to get the usual." Whatever the usual was. It was the first time they were ordering pizza as a "family" after all, and he had no idea how they liked it. He turned back to the brownie with a small frown on his face, as if he had bad news. "We still have to frost the cake, unless one of you is a frosting fairy."

There was a sigh from the child on the chair. "Not toona," she corrected herself, interrupted by a laugh from the other end as Piper gave up on trying to keep up with the long list. "Des said to get the usual."

A small pop signaled the plug being pulled out of the sink, and very slowly the level of suds descended, revealing the brownie not even slightly damp. Evidently some little part of his magic. "Ah, butter'n sugar comes off easy," Oisin waved a hand dismissively. "No paintin' wi' food colorin'. That takes forever t' get off've the floor."

Des leaned in and whispered a warning. "She wants to make flowers." He didn't even know how to make frosting flowers. That particular skill was beyond him. She had said something about asking her fairy friends about edible flowers, but he didn't feel it was his place to mention that. One way or another, the cake was going to be decorated, hopefully before Piper got home. "Ask her when she'll be here," he called over to Lyneth, so he could guesstimate how much time they had left.

"Eh?" Oisin paused in the fact of digging a knobbly finger into his ear to excavate the soap suds that still clung there, and looked up at Des with interest. "Oh, that'll be fine," he nodded cheerfully. "Give us a hand out of 'ere, would ya?" With one hand in the air for Des to lift him out of the sink, he put two fingers in his mouth and whistled. The fairies, apparently aware when they were required, stopped playing catch with pilfered peas and flew over toward the brownie curiously.

Over on the chair, Lyneth said goodbye to her mother and lowered the phone from her ear, peering at it curiously to work out how to turn it off. "She said she was leavin' in twenty minutes an' she'll be home in 'bout an hour, Des. An' your phone won' stop talkin' to her."

Des offered the brownie two fingers to help hoist him out of the sink, arching his brows as the fairies gathered once again to do Oisin's bidding. He was seriously thinking about teaching them to play baseball when spring rolled around. The thought made him giggle a little as the silliness of it. He turned his head at the sound of Lyneth's voice, realizing she didn't know how to use his phone. "Oh, it's okay. Just set it down. It'll stop." He waited for the brownie to climb out of the sink. "So, frosting," he mused aloud. They were going to need butter and sugar and possibly vanilla, he thought making a mental list before turning to search the cupboards for the necessary ingredients. "What flavor, Lyn?" he asked as he pulled down the sugar.

There was a clunk as little fingers but the expensive phone down heavily on the table. "Choklit!" she exclaimed excitedly, if predictably. Chocolate was Lyneth's favorite thing right now, as was evidenced by the ice cream mishap earlier in the day.

"No," Oisin argued with her from the huddle of fairies. "No more chocolate today, girlie, or I'll tell yer ma." He nodded to the faires around him, who nodded and giggled back, buzzing out through Loki's dog flap to do something mysterious in the garden. Lyneth pouted outrageously at being gainsaid by a brownie, who promptly ignored her and got Des' attention by means of another whistle. "Butter, sugar, vanilla, and there's a pot of raspberry jam in that cupboard," the ugly little man ordered. "The girls'll bring you some stuff to make it pretty." The way Oisin said "pretty", he could have been referring to dog's doings.

Des mirrored Lyneth's frown as Oisin scolded her and refused her chocolate, making a mental note to sneak her a little later, even if he was chancing spoiling her rotten to the core. Little girls were made to be spoiled, he thought, and he wouldn't give her enough to make her sick. He'd learned that lesson once already today. He glanced over at the brownie's whistling, nodding his head to indicate acknowledgement of his orders, wondering who the boss was around here anyway, but somehow, he knew better than to contradict the brownie who could make his life miserable, if rubbed the wrong way. "Jam, right," Des muttered to himself, pulling out the ingredients they were going to need to frost Piper's cake as he located them, one item at a time.

Satisfied his orders were going to be obeyed, Oisin thumped down from the counter-top and disappeared, though it was a vanishing act achieved by high speed rather than a puff of smoke. Lyneth, assuaged by Des' solidarity in frowning with her, was leaning forward on the table again, stealing another fingerful of the now cool cake to nibble on while she waited. "Wotcha doin', Des?"

"Making frosting," he replied, searching the cupboards for a mixing bowl. "You're not stealing another taste of that cake, are you?" he asked, without having to see what she was doing. How adults managed to know what children were doing without watching them was a great mystery to the children. Many blamed it on the invisible pair of eyes at the back of their heads, but in truth, it was just that most adults remembered what it was like to be a child and knew what they'd do in their shoes.

"Mo," came the indistinct response from the table, through a third mouthful of the cake. There was a gentle creak of the chair as Lyneth sat down, shifting her hands underneath her legs, endeavoring to make it look as though she couldn't possibly have just created a smiley face in the one half of the cake she could reach and eaten the evidence, because look, she couldn't reach from here.

"Uh huh," he replied, unconvinced. "No more cake or you don't get any later," he warned, but whether it was a real warning or an empty threat was hard to say. "Would you like to help with the mixing?" he asked, knowing he was probably asking for trouble, but maybe if he got the ingredients safely in the bowl, she could handle the stirring part.

The little face lit up happily, the head nodding up and down as she beamed with anticipation. "Is it hard, mixin' frostin'?" she asked, curious and evidently getting more out of the baking process than stolen mouthfuls when she thought he wasn't looking. "Mummy always says it makes her arm hurt, but Mummy's not a proper girl, so's maybe it only doesn' hurt if you're a proper girl an' you do it lots."

Des just about crossed his eyes in response to her statement, which completely confused him, but probably seemed perfectly logical to her. "What?" he asked with a chuckle. "I think you just lost me." And it wasn't the first time that had happened either. "Doesn't your Mummy have a mixer?" That would make the job easier, but also potentially messier. He sighed, not knowing the proper measurements by heart. "Do you have a cookbook around here somewhere?" He was still familiarizing himself with Piper's kitchen and where everything was located.

Lyneth Granger

Date: 2013-02-14 17:17 EST
There was a thump from the bookshelf over the table, and the appropriate book dropped onto the surface, just happening to fall open at the right page for him. There were advantages to having fairies in the kitchen, after all. Lyneth giggled cheerfully, enjoying the nonplussed look on Des' face. "Mummy has spoons," she informed him with that peculiarly non-malicious glee small children have when offered the prospect of watching an adult struggle with something that could be beyond them.

Des blinked as the cookbook dropped down in front of him, falling open to the exact page that was needed. "Um, thank you!" he called to whoever it was that had been responsible for providing him with the recipe. He leaned in to glance at the recipe before reaching measuring out the proper proportions of butter, sugar, and vanilla. "What did you mean that Mum-Piper isn't a proper girl?"

Lyneth, unfortunately, didn't get a chance to answer, though the look that crossed her face was probably warning enough that Des had just made a terrible faux pas.

"Thank you?!" Oisin's voice exploded from the bookshelf, where he had been directing the fairies who had remained in the kitchen from a place of relative safety. He emerged into view, his grey face puce with fury. "Did you jus' say thank you? Who d'you think I am, some jumped up pixie who doesn' know better'n to do what?s best for it' Thank you. Oh, thank you. Well, thank you! I'm off!" Grumbling and gesticulating in a state of high dudgeon, he jumped down off the shelf, glaring at Des all the while.

Lyneth's eyes snapped wide open. "He didn't mean it, Oisin. Please don' go!"

Desmond looked completely flabbergasted by the little brownie's sudden outburst, seemingly insulted by what Des and most mature adults considered to be simple good manners. He furrowed his brows in confusion, tossing a completely lost expression at Lyneth, having absolutely no clue what he'd done wrong. "I, uh..." For a prominent attorney who was accustomed to winning arguments and having the last word, he was at a sudden loss for words, his mouth hanging open, not knowing what to say.

"Months, months, I've been here," the little brownie went on, his exclamations describing his progress across the table between various pots and bags and bowls. "Never thought anyone'd speak to me like that. It's obscene!"

Lynnie reached over, tugging urgently at Des' sleeve. "Don' let him go, Des, please don' let him go," she pleaded hopefully. "Jus' say you're sorry an' you won't say it again. You didn' mean it, did you?"

"What are you talking about?" he asked, looking back at the brownie. "All I said was..." He broke off, turning to Lyneth as she tugged at his sleeve. "Apologize for what? For thanking him' It's just good manners to..." He broke off again, looking very confused.

"Good manners"!" Oisin jumped down off the table onto a chair, and down further to the floor, stubby arms flailing as though he'd run out of words to describe his fury. "It's shameful, that's what it is! Shameful! Talkin' to a good, upstandin' brownie that way - it's enough t'make me sick! I slave away here, keepin' everythin' spic'n'span, an' what do I get for it' A thank you! It's a disgrace! An outrage! An insult!"

Des had the vacant confused look on his face still, wondering why in the world the brownie would be insulted by his simple show of appreciation. "I, uh....I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult you. I just....We humans are accustomed to offering thanks in appreciation of a job well done. It's sort of customary." He hoped the little man would accept his explanation and apology as there had been no insult intended.

Stopped in his tracks by the apology, Oisin paused with one foot out of the kitchen door. He turned slowly on his heel, glaring up at Des, his long ears stuck out on either side and wobbling with each motion of his head. "Oh, aye?" he asked pointedly. "An' d'you ever jus' thank" - the little man spat the word like a curse - "each other for jus' bein'" Or is that an insult you're reservin' specially for me'n mine?"

"Well, um..." Des fumbled, looking perplexed. What was the right answer here" He had a feeling the right answer was what he considered to be the wrong answer. Honest, almost to a flaw, he tried to think of a way he could answer honestly without further offending the little fellow. "You mean, just for existing?" he asked. "I suppose not, but..." He glanced to Lyneth again, looking for a little help with the situation. He was rather fond of the brownie and never meant to insult him, just the opposite, in fact.

Finally, however, Lyneth was able to offer something helpful to the tricky conversation. She tugged on Des' sleeve to pull him down so she could whisper into his ear. "Brownies clean up jus' 'cos they're brownies," she explained, coincidentally spattering his ear with spittle in the same motion. "Like fairies help flower jus' 'cos they're fairies. Thankin' a brownie's like tellin' him well done jus' for bein', an' they don' stay if people do that. You got to make him stay, Des!"

He leaned toward Lyneth as she tugged him downward, blinking as he felt her spray a little wetness into his ear, though a man of good manners, he said nothing about it, except to wipe his ear with a hand once she was finished. He didn't need to upset her, too. "How am I supposed to do that?" he asked, clearly at the end of his rope. It had been a long day, and he'd be happy when Piper got home to relieve him.

Acutely aware of the grumpy brownie watching them from the doorway, Lyneth cast around for something to say. Her eyes fell on the bag of icing sugar and lit up. "Oisin's gotta stay 'cos no one's ever gonna be as good at cleanin' up as he is, 'cos he's brilliant at it, an' we're all pants," she declared suddenly, and gave the bag a shove. It opened on the way onto the floor and exploded in much the same way the flour had, though admittedly the cloud was a lot sweeter tasting this time. And in the doorway, Oisin tensed, obviously now completely at odds with himself.

Des sighed, hoping the brownie decided to stay because if he didn't, he'd have to clean up the mess and he hadn't even started on the bathroom yet. "Pants?" he echoed, unsure what that meant exactly, but assuming it meant something bad. He did get the hint though and quickly followed her lead. "What will we do without him?" he asked, with a flair for the dramatic. "Everything will be a mess! Your mother will be home soon and we haven't even started making the frosting yet!" Des continued, sounding utterly hopeless.

"Yes, an' Mummy'll get angry an' she'll frow us out," Lyneth added, her lower lip wobbling in an all too believable threat of tears. "An' all 'cos you didn' know not to say that to him, an' you'll never say it again, will you? An' you'll be extra messy next time you come, jus' to make up for it. Won't you?"

"She will!" Des went along with the scam, doing his best to look forlorn. "And we'll have to live on the streets and pick food out of trashbins and sleep in dark alleys. Oh, woe is us!" He was trying hard not to smirk or look in the least bit amused by their dramatics, which, in his opinion, were a little over the top. "No! Now that I know it's bad manners, of course I'd never say it again. I promise!" he continued, crossing his heart, like he had before, but not mentioning anything about needles this time, as Oisin had been a little too eager to provide one. "And I'll be..." Des furrowed his brows at Lyneth, hardly believing she was making him say this. "Extra messy from now on! I swear!"

"He will! An' I'll walk mud in an' everythin'!" Lyneth added, a little too enthusiastically.

The little brownie's eyes were fixed on the icing sugar now decorating most of the kitchen while all this went on, his fingers twitching as he listened. And finally ...."Oh, all right," he grumped. "Jus' don' you say that again. S'not right." A moment later, he was a whirr of action. The icing sugar back was set back on the table, and in less than a minute, all evidence that it had been knocked over was utterly extinguished. And Oisin was nowhere to be seen. He was audible, though, seemingly from inside one of the cupboards, still muttering about bad manners and stupid humans.

Lyneth Granger

Date: 2013-02-14 17:21 EST
Lyneth gave Des a huge grin. "See" It worked!"

"So it did," Des grinned back, leaning over to give Lyneth a hug. "I'd have missed the little fellow." This last bit was said quietly, for Lyneth's ears only, so that he didn't inadvertently insult the brownie again. "You're going to have to give me a lesson in dos and don'ts so I don't insult anyone else." Relieved, he turned back to the recipe, thankful the butter had softened a little while they were going back and forth with Oisin. He found a wooden spoon in a drawer and stuck it into the mixture before setting it in front of Lyneth, as promised. "You never explained why your mother is not a proper girl."

"I didn't know you didn't know not to say thank you to brownies," she defended herself, as only a child can, squeezing him warmly before letting him go. To be fair, Piper had already known, thanks to her research on Fae and faeries, but it had never occurred to either Davidson to warn Des. As Lyneth seized the wooden spoon, scraping it unsuccessfully around the bowl with the butter stuck to it, she blinked up at Des thoughtfully. "Well, 'cos she doesn' wear pretty dresses, an' she doesn' put pretties on her face, an' she doesn' go out with girls - she only goes out with you. Proper girls always look like princesseses."

Des' expression turned thoughtful, a little sad even, at this declaration of judgment from daughter upon mother. "You don't have to wear dresses and makeup and go out shopping for shoes to be a proper girl, Lyneth," he remarked, reaching for the spoon and bowl as she seemed to be having trouble with it. "Let me get it started for you," he said, biceps bunching as he pushed the spoon around the bowl through the butter and sugar mixture. "This would be a lot easier with an electric mixer," he remarked, making a mental note to buy Piper one the next chance he had or maybe bring one from home.

That thought turned to another, and he frowned further, wondering just when he would be able to get away and how much he should pack when he did. He was eager to leave New York and make the move to Rhy'Din a permanent one, but after trying to give his two weeks' notice, the case had gotten more complicated and he'd been asked to stay on a little longer. Just how long, he wasn't quite sure. He had yet to tell Piper that and was dreading breaking his promise yet again. The fairies sure as hell weren't going to like it.

"But she only dresses like a girl when she has to go out," Lynnie complained mildly, giving up custody of the bowl and spoon to watch Des beat the butter-cream into submission. "She's only wearin' a dress today 'cos I told her to. She always wears jeans and trousies and horrible cardigrins, an' she never does anythin' pretty with her hair." They were the petty complaints of a girly girl who wanted to be girly with her Mummy but didn't know how to tell her without upsetting said Mummy.

"Everyone is different, Lyneth. Would it matter to you if your mother had blond hair instead of brown" Would you love her less" Would you love her more if she wore dresses and spent hours in front of a mirror instead of playing with you?" he pointed out as he stirred the mixture, slowing turning it into something closer to frosting. He didn't want to hurt her feelings either, but she needed to learn that superficial appearances weren't all that important. It was what was inside that truly mattered. As for himself, Desmond prided himself on dressing well, but it wasn't just a matter of vanity, but a necessary evil in his line of work. He needed to make a good first impression each and every time, though he had lately taken to dressing more and more casually when he was in Piper and Lyneth's presence.

"No." This was offered up in a sullen tone of voice. "She use to brush my hair before bed an' come an' lie in bed with me an' read an' wait until I'm asleep before goin'." And Piper still did, of course ....but not on the nights when Des was staying with them. As much as Lyneth loved Des, she was ever so slightly resentful of the minute time with her mother she was losing out on.

"Oh, I see..." Desmond replied, with a sinking heart, understanding perhaps better than Lyneth knew, and for the first time since he'd met them, he wondered if instead of bringing them all together and becoming a family, like he wanted, that he wasn't pulling them apart. He said nothing more about it, but thought maybe two weeks was too soon, after all. Lyneth, at least, seemed to need more time with her mother, and he wasn't sure she'd get it if he was hovering on the edge all the time. Of course, he had no qualms about Piper spending as much time with Lyneth as she wanted, making very few demands of his own, accustomed to being alone, but he hadn't realized until that moment the resentment his being there was causing between mother and daughter. He turned quiet as he finished stirring the frosting, as though it took all his concentration, unwilling to share how his heart was starting to ache at Lyneth's innocent revelation.

As it turned out, the tiny girl had a solution to her little resentments all ready to push forward. "Why don' you come an' lie in bed with us an' read an' stay until I'm sleepin'?" she asked him hopefully. "I got a big 'nough bed, an' you an' Mummy don't mind bein' all squished up. I know you don'," she added conspiratorially, "'cos I seed you in the barfroom, an' you was all squished up 'gainst the wall." She nodded sagely.

It wasn't like Des to be morose, but he hadn't realized until that very moment what affect his weekly visitations had had on the little family, and despite the encouragement from Lyneth, he shrugged his shoulders in reply, not even her conspiratorial whisper able to cheer him. "No, your time with your mother is your time. It's special. I don't want to interfere." He realized with a sinking heart that no matter how much he might want to be her father, he never really would be, not the way Piper was her mother. He'd never have the same bond with her that Piper had, and the thought of it almost broke his heart. "I think it's ready for spreading now," he said, changing the subject and setting the bowl down so that they could start spreading it over the cakes. "Want a taste to make sure?" he asked, offering her a lick from the spoon, as if nothing had happened to disturb his happiness, though it had.

For the second time that evening, Lyneth realized she'd said something wrong, something that had upset Des, however hard he tried to keep her from seeing it. Her smile faded away, and she gently sat herself down on her backside, out of the way of any more playing with the frosting or the cake, hugging her stuffed rabbit hard. Even having the spoon offered over to her didn't lift her suddenly muted spirits, her head shaking in quiet rebuttal of the offer. "No, thank you."

He arched a brow at her, sensing her flagging spirits, almost as much as his own, and sighed again, setting the bowl aside, the frosting forgotten for now. It wasn't like Lyneth not to accept a taste of anything sweet and sugary and he knew he'd somehow done something wrong. Caring more for her feelings than his own - he was an adult, after all - he hunkered down in front of her and turned her chair to face him, lifting her chin to look him in the eyes. "What's the matter, pumpkin? I thought you were excited about the cake."

The turquoise eyes that met his were wavering on the edge of filling with tears, more evidence of the long day than the true force of her feeling. "I didn' mean to make you sad," she said, her voice very soft and very young in the quiet kitchen. "An' I don' want you an' Mummy to fight, an' I don' want you to go 'way, an' I don' want to get in the way. I can share. I can."

Despite his own feelings and worries, his heart went out to the little girl he so wished was his own daughter. He saw the tears in her eyes and didn't want to see her cry or make her sad. He only wanted to make her happy, even if it meant he had to set aside a little of his own happiness. "Sweetheart," he started, brushing a thumb against her cheek. "You aren't in the way. It's just..." He sighed again, as he tried to find the right words to explain without making her feel sad or guilty. "I love you and I love your mother, and I don't want to come between you or make either of you sad."

Lyneth Granger

Date: 2013-02-14 17:23 EST
It was perhaps the first time he'd told her he loved her, without any qualms, without any reservations. "I want us to be a family, but....I know I'm not your father. I know I'll never really be your father. I know I can't take anyone else's place, and I'm not trying to. I just....I'm happy when I'm here with you and with Piper. I feel like....like I belong here." He shrugged his shoulders, unsure if he was making any sense at all.

"But I want you to be my daddy," she protested softly, slithering off the chair to hug her arms around his knees, giving him a choice between crouching for a proper hug or falling over. "I want a proper family like my friends have. Don' go 'way jus' 'cos I'm a poo."

He settled in for that hug, sliding his arms around her and pulling her close against his. If Piper were to walk in at the very moment, she might think they were only having a hug, not trying to mend what had amounted to their first misunderstanding. "You're not a poo," he disagreed, smoothing her the hair at her back and hugging her close, feeling the threat of tears making his chest ache, but for now, managing to keep them under control. "I can share, too, Lynnie. I'm not trying to take Piper away from you, I swear. I just want us to be a family. That's all." It seemed they wanted the same thing; it was just a matter of trying to figure out how to make it all work.

Snuggled in against him, the tiny girl sniffed away the threat of her own tears, squeezing her eyes shut as he soothed her gently. "M'sorry," she told him softly. "I didn' mean to be horrid." Her little hands clutched at his shirt, holding on tightly as though she didn't want to let go, and the truth was that she truly didn't. She was as excited as her mother about having Des in their lives, and if sometimes that meant sacrificing just a little bit of Piper's time, she could handle that. She would rather miss out on a few cuddles with Mummy than have Mummy be sad again because Des had gone away.

"Don't say that. You weren't horrid. You're never horrid. You're sweet and smart and adorable." He gave her another little squeeze before pulling back to look into her eyes, letting her see the tears that were mirrored in his own. "I'm sorry I made you sad. You make me happy, you and your Mum, and I haven't been happy in a very long time. I just want to make you both happy back." He let her cling to his t-shirt, smiling at her through his own tears in hopes she'd believe him. "Tell you a little secret....I sometimes wish you could be mine. My little girl. If and when your mother and I ever get married..." He trailed off, chewing at his mouth, wondering if she was ready for such a question.

"Is you gonna updropped me?" The question was out before he had a chance to finish his thought, the little face lighting up properly. "Ollie never wanted to updropped me, an' Mummy says when you ask her about marryin', she's gonna ask you about updropshun so's we're all a proper fam'ly an' you'll really be my daddy, an' I want that!" She bounced on her toes happily, still clinging to his t-shirt. "An' I don' like Mummy's last name. I like yours best."

He smiled, the dark cloud over their heads seemingly dissipated, at least for now, amused by her mispronunciation of the word he had been considering. "A-dopt," he enunciated slowly, turning momentarily serious, frowning a little at the mention of Ollie, assuming the man hadn't had a chance to adopt her or maybe the thought had never occurred to him. To Des, it wasn't just about marrying Piper; it was about all three of them. It was about becoming a family, and he wanted to make Lyneth as much a part of that as Piper. When it happened - and if Des had anything to say about it, it would happen - he wasn't going to just marry Piper, but adopt Lyneth, too, and make them both a permanent part of his life. "I want that, too, Lynnie. I want you to be my daughter. For real," he added, leaning close to Eskimo kiss her nose.

She beamed, the upset forgotten in the wake of the promise made to make everything as watertight and official as it could possibly be. "Ay-dropped," she repeated the word as accurately as she could manage, before scrunching up her nose to take the Eskimo kiss with a little giggle. "Can I make the birfday cake for when you marry Mummy?"

"Only if you promise to put lots of flowers on it!" he exclaimed with a happy grin, the bad mood forgotten, at least for the moment. "Now, if we want to get this cake frosted before your mother gets home, we had better get to it!" He scooped her up in his arms as he moved to his feet, setting her down on her feet on the chair before pulling the cakes closer so that she could reach them.

It didn't take long for the kitchen to fall into studious quiet as little hands - with much help from bigger hands - painted the middle of the cake with butter-cream and jam and carefully placed the top layer firmly square, turning attention to properly decorating, with the assistance of the fairies Oisin had sent out earlier. They returned with tiny arms filled with carefully picked flowers and petals, each of which had been delicately sugared until they held their shape perfectly without intervention, and were perfectly safe to eat. It didn't take long for the cake to take shape, covered all over in frosting and flowers, not entirely unlike Lyneth herself, who somehow managed to get frosting on the end of her nose in the process.

By the time they were finished, they were laughing again, like nothing bad had transpired between them. It was a little hurt and little hurts sometimes had to happen so that people and relationship could thrive and grow and learn about each other. As far as Des was concerned, though it had prickled at his heart a little, he still loved Lyneth as much if not more than ever and was happy she wanted him to be as much a part of his life as he wanted her to be of his. He chuckled a little at the frosting on her nose and reached over to wipe it clean with a finger, which he then licked clean. The cake, which had started out rough and imperfect, was now covered in icing and looking deliciously perfect, just like their afternoon had weathered its rough patches but turned out to be a lovely day after all.

((Cute scene that made me weepy, but in a good way! Mucho thanks to Des' player!))