One particular housing estate in Brooklyn, New York, had a decidedly family feel to it these days, thanks in no small part to the investment of one busy-body of a woman who had charmed and strong-armed at least two other families into settling there. The block on which the Bristols lived was home not only to them, but to the Dalys, the Evans', and the Sparrowhawks, and their children were becoming interchangeable some days. Today, however, Rhys and Nat were keeping their own chaos confined, choosing to enjoy the adventure that was Ana lurching wildly after their dogs, Cody and Sasha, by themselves for once. They knew they were likely to get embroiled in some new adventure of their own at some point in the near future, but for now, they had the leisure to enjoy their family and each other.
And, of course, Rhys had the wonderful view of his wife trying to dig her stockinged heels in on the kitchen floor, and being dragged, inexorably, toward the open back door and the promise of being dumped in a snowdrift by both their rambunctious dogs. "Nyet!" Nat was laughing as she clung to the collars in her fingers. "Stop! Stop!"
While some men might rescue their wife from such a situation, Rhys was not some men. He only stood propped against the kitchen counter, arms and legs crossed, laughing as his wife was bodily dragged across the floor. Such was the way of the Bristol household these days, the tears of the past replaced with laughter. "Serves you right for getting them wound up!" he called to his wife, over her laughter, before pushing off the counter to swoop in to snatch their daughter off the floor before she followed them all out the door. Why the back door was open was another matter all together, as it had been opened so the dogs could do their duty, not drag their mistress out into the snow.
"Oooh, you ..." What Nat called her husband might have been cause for offense for some men, but it was declared fondly. Just as they reached the back door, she gave up, letting go of the collars to allow Cody and Sasha to bound joyfully into the snow in search of somewhere to do their thing. Breathless, Nat straightened, looking back at Rhys. "I am never going to learn to put my shoes on first, am I?"
"Maybe you're just a slow learner," Rhys replied with a smirk, not meaning to insult her but only to tease her. She knew he well enough by now to understand his sarcastic sense of humor, besides he owed her that for calling him names. "What do you say, Annybananny' Isn't Mama funny?" But before their daughter could answer his question, he was tickling her in the ribs.
The little girl in his arms crowed with laughter, torn between the antics of the dogs and her father's silly tickles. Nat chuckled to herself, pulling a pair of boots that really were impractical for the weather out from behind the door to pull them on. "If I were that slow, milaya, we might never have made the small monster cackling in your ear," she pointed out in amusement.
Rhys gasped, feigning shock. "Did you hear what Mama called you? She called you a monster" Shall we show Mama what a monster looks like?" he asked their daughter playfully, turning their daughter in his arms and stalking toward Nat with a gait that rivaled Frankenstein's monster.
"Mama!" Ana's arms reached toward Nat as she was borne in that direction, little feet kicking cheerfully, if dangerously close to said Mama's head.
"Ah, but all monsters have their weaknesses," Nat laughed, rising onto her feet once again to catch Ana against her chest and shoulder and deliberately sandwich the tiny girl between herself and Rhys, who got himself a kiss in the process. "Don't they, Papa?"
Rhys grinned as Nat rose to the occasion, sandwiching Ana between them to give him a kiss. They both knew that the two of them were both his weakness and his greatest strength. "And your kisses would be mine," he replied, touching a second kiss to her lips that lingered a bit longer than necessary.
"Just my kisses, dusha moya?" she asked innocently. Her timing could not have been more perfect - as she eased back, Ana twisted to plant one of her infamously wet, open-mouthed kisses directly onto Rhys' mouth, not much caring whether he was ready for it or not.
He would have answered if he hadn't been distracted by their daughter's wet kiss, laughing in amusement, even as he wiped toddler spit from his mouth. "Isn't that sweet' I think Mama wants one of those kisses, too, Ana!" he told her, mischievously instigating their daughter.
"Pucker up, malyutka," Nat grinned, making fish faces at their daughter. The nineteen-month-old was only too happy to oblige, slathering her mother's mouth and chin with toddler spit as she lavished kisses on the offered face. "You are very lucky I love you, little woman," Nat laughed, leaning back to wipe her mouth and chin. "All right, I should fetch a couple of bags and find where those silly dogs have decorated the snow."
Rhys laughed at the wet kisses Ana was sharing with her mother, before handing her over. "It's okay. I'll do it. You take the smoocher," he volunteered, more than happy to scoop poop, rather than have a surprise come spring.
"Ah, so I put my boots on for nothing!" Nat declared, her big surprised eyes more for Ana's benefit than anything. She eyed her suddenly quiet daughter suspiciously, and lifted the little girl high enough to sniff at her backside. Her eyes narrowed at Rhys in amusement. "Very sneaky, milaya. I am impressed."
"What' Poop is poop! At least, you get to stay warm while you clean up yours!" he exclaimed, as if he was doing her a favor by going out in the cold. "No take backs!" he warned, throwing up his hands, as if to ward them both away as he backed toward the door.
Laughing, Nat shooed him away. "Off you go, then, Papa," she said, waving her hand to usher him out through the door, and flinching out of the way as Ana did the same.
"Ow goo, Papa!"
Snickering softly, Nat kissed the little head close to hers. "One day soon, malyutka, you and I are going to discuss the wonders of the toilet from a practical point of view," she promised the little girl, heading toward the changing station on the other side of the kitchen counter.
Rhys chuckled at the little magpie that was their daughter mimicking her mother, as he pulled on his boots and coat and stepped outside. Thankfully, she had not learned to cuss yet, and Rhys was trying to be good by substituting silly words for the profanity that usually came out of his mouth.
It was a toss up as to which of them had gotten the easier task. On the one hand, Ana was all about trying to escape from her own mushy, smelly diapers right now, and surprisingly good at it; on the other hand, Rhys had to contend with two very playful dogs who were only too happy to pounce on him just at the moment he bent over to retrieve their little presents from the snow.
Rhys thought he'd been doing Nat a favor, but it was hard to say which chore was the worse of the two. Still, whichever he ended up with, he rarely complained. After all, this domestic life with Nat was all he had ever wanted, even if he did pine for Avalon now and then.
Still, their visits to Avalon were frequent and regular, keeping in close contact with the friends they had made there, and the family who lived there. With Ian and Aurelia finally living just across the street from them, in the house that adjoined Gina and Adam's new place, Rhys and Nat had everyone they loved within a heartbeat from their own home. By the time Nat was done with Ana, the little girl was yelling for her Papa again, a sure sign that she was either tired or hungry. As such, Nat held her hands as Ana toddled toward the back door, both of them lingering just inside as the little voice summoned her father insistently.
And, of course, Rhys had the wonderful view of his wife trying to dig her stockinged heels in on the kitchen floor, and being dragged, inexorably, toward the open back door and the promise of being dumped in a snowdrift by both their rambunctious dogs. "Nyet!" Nat was laughing as she clung to the collars in her fingers. "Stop! Stop!"
While some men might rescue their wife from such a situation, Rhys was not some men. He only stood propped against the kitchen counter, arms and legs crossed, laughing as his wife was bodily dragged across the floor. Such was the way of the Bristol household these days, the tears of the past replaced with laughter. "Serves you right for getting them wound up!" he called to his wife, over her laughter, before pushing off the counter to swoop in to snatch their daughter off the floor before she followed them all out the door. Why the back door was open was another matter all together, as it had been opened so the dogs could do their duty, not drag their mistress out into the snow.
"Oooh, you ..." What Nat called her husband might have been cause for offense for some men, but it was declared fondly. Just as they reached the back door, she gave up, letting go of the collars to allow Cody and Sasha to bound joyfully into the snow in search of somewhere to do their thing. Breathless, Nat straightened, looking back at Rhys. "I am never going to learn to put my shoes on first, am I?"
"Maybe you're just a slow learner," Rhys replied with a smirk, not meaning to insult her but only to tease her. She knew he well enough by now to understand his sarcastic sense of humor, besides he owed her that for calling him names. "What do you say, Annybananny' Isn't Mama funny?" But before their daughter could answer his question, he was tickling her in the ribs.
The little girl in his arms crowed with laughter, torn between the antics of the dogs and her father's silly tickles. Nat chuckled to herself, pulling a pair of boots that really were impractical for the weather out from behind the door to pull them on. "If I were that slow, milaya, we might never have made the small monster cackling in your ear," she pointed out in amusement.
Rhys gasped, feigning shock. "Did you hear what Mama called you? She called you a monster" Shall we show Mama what a monster looks like?" he asked their daughter playfully, turning their daughter in his arms and stalking toward Nat with a gait that rivaled Frankenstein's monster.
"Mama!" Ana's arms reached toward Nat as she was borne in that direction, little feet kicking cheerfully, if dangerously close to said Mama's head.
"Ah, but all monsters have their weaknesses," Nat laughed, rising onto her feet once again to catch Ana against her chest and shoulder and deliberately sandwich the tiny girl between herself and Rhys, who got himself a kiss in the process. "Don't they, Papa?"
Rhys grinned as Nat rose to the occasion, sandwiching Ana between them to give him a kiss. They both knew that the two of them were both his weakness and his greatest strength. "And your kisses would be mine," he replied, touching a second kiss to her lips that lingered a bit longer than necessary.
"Just my kisses, dusha moya?" she asked innocently. Her timing could not have been more perfect - as she eased back, Ana twisted to plant one of her infamously wet, open-mouthed kisses directly onto Rhys' mouth, not much caring whether he was ready for it or not.
He would have answered if he hadn't been distracted by their daughter's wet kiss, laughing in amusement, even as he wiped toddler spit from his mouth. "Isn't that sweet' I think Mama wants one of those kisses, too, Ana!" he told her, mischievously instigating their daughter.
"Pucker up, malyutka," Nat grinned, making fish faces at their daughter. The nineteen-month-old was only too happy to oblige, slathering her mother's mouth and chin with toddler spit as she lavished kisses on the offered face. "You are very lucky I love you, little woman," Nat laughed, leaning back to wipe her mouth and chin. "All right, I should fetch a couple of bags and find where those silly dogs have decorated the snow."
Rhys laughed at the wet kisses Ana was sharing with her mother, before handing her over. "It's okay. I'll do it. You take the smoocher," he volunteered, more than happy to scoop poop, rather than have a surprise come spring.
"Ah, so I put my boots on for nothing!" Nat declared, her big surprised eyes more for Ana's benefit than anything. She eyed her suddenly quiet daughter suspiciously, and lifted the little girl high enough to sniff at her backside. Her eyes narrowed at Rhys in amusement. "Very sneaky, milaya. I am impressed."
"What' Poop is poop! At least, you get to stay warm while you clean up yours!" he exclaimed, as if he was doing her a favor by going out in the cold. "No take backs!" he warned, throwing up his hands, as if to ward them both away as he backed toward the door.
Laughing, Nat shooed him away. "Off you go, then, Papa," she said, waving her hand to usher him out through the door, and flinching out of the way as Ana did the same.
"Ow goo, Papa!"
Snickering softly, Nat kissed the little head close to hers. "One day soon, malyutka, you and I are going to discuss the wonders of the toilet from a practical point of view," she promised the little girl, heading toward the changing station on the other side of the kitchen counter.
Rhys chuckled at the little magpie that was their daughter mimicking her mother, as he pulled on his boots and coat and stepped outside. Thankfully, she had not learned to cuss yet, and Rhys was trying to be good by substituting silly words for the profanity that usually came out of his mouth.
It was a toss up as to which of them had gotten the easier task. On the one hand, Ana was all about trying to escape from her own mushy, smelly diapers right now, and surprisingly good at it; on the other hand, Rhys had to contend with two very playful dogs who were only too happy to pounce on him just at the moment he bent over to retrieve their little presents from the snow.
Rhys thought he'd been doing Nat a favor, but it was hard to say which chore was the worse of the two. Still, whichever he ended up with, he rarely complained. After all, this domestic life with Nat was all he had ever wanted, even if he did pine for Avalon now and then.
Still, their visits to Avalon were frequent and regular, keeping in close contact with the friends they had made there, and the family who lived there. With Ian and Aurelia finally living just across the street from them, in the house that adjoined Gina and Adam's new place, Rhys and Nat had everyone they loved within a heartbeat from their own home. By the time Nat was done with Ana, the little girl was yelling for her Papa again, a sure sign that she was either tired or hungry. As such, Nat held her hands as Ana toddled toward the back door, both of them lingering just inside as the little voice summoned her father insistently.