The meeting between Edward and Charlie had gone well. Ed was pleasantly surprised to see how Charlie had matured and grown since the last he saw of the boy. And Charlie was eager to please, earnest in his longing to give back to Rose House what had been given to him. As the two men parted ways with a shake of the hand, Ed left the house to run errands and to make the logistical plans to move the now hiding children safely to Ro's custody.
Charlie hung back, walking through the halls of the place he'd called home. It was the first safe place he'd ever known and he was lost within his recollections of the friends and teachers that had taken the frightened child and turned him into a healthy little boy. As he walked down the main hall towards the kitchen, there was a smile on his face. He felt like he had come home.
Home was currently a noisy place - at least the kitchen was. Declan, one of the few who wandered in and out of Rose House unhindered, was hammering at one of the counter-tops, settling it back into place.
The banging didn't seem to be bothering Ro, though, who was sat at the kitchen table with a mug of something that smelled suspiciously like chocolate mint and a stack of papers. Every now and then, she would make a mark on one of the papers. She glanced up as Charlie appeared at the entrance to the kitchen, smiling. "I take it everything is settled, then?"
"Yes, ma'am. I start training with Ed on Tuesday." Charlie nodded and skirted away around the table. "That counter's always been a bit off. Glad to see somebody's finally fixing it." He knew better than to disturb Ro when she was grading papers, so he turned to the guy fixing the cabinet. "Can you use a hand?"
Declan blinked, a little surprised at being addressed. People usually looked straight past him. He paused in his hammering, turning to look the newcomer over. "Depends," he shrugged. "Can you figure out a way to stop that mane of yours getting trapped while you work?"
That reply got Charlie to laugh. "Yeah, I think I can manage that." He pulled an elastic snood from his pocket and within moments the long mane of golden curls was tucked neatly within the crocheted net. "So, what can I do to help out?"
Staring at the snood, Declan snorted, a crooked grin appearing on his face. He scratched at the stubble on his chin. "Never thought I'd see a fella wearing one of those," he muttered, taking up his hammer again. "Lean good and hard on the counter, would ya?" He drew another long nail from his tool belt. "M'name's Dec, by the way."
"What's wrong with a snood?" Charlie did as asked, he lay his hands upon the counter and applied most of his weight into the lean. "Charlie," he offered quickly. "Can you think of any other way of controlling all of this hair? I can't."
"Nothin', nothin'." Declan lifted a knee up onto the counter, centred the nail and tapped it in. After a few of those taps, he started to hammer it in for real, and both men would feel the counter shift as the nail bit in. "Could always do those pretty plait things girls like," he suggested, lowering his knee again. He winced a little, switching the hammer from right to left hand, and flexing his fingers. There were some fairly sizeable bruises on his knuckles.
"Yeah, the girls like to do that. On a hot day, feels pretty good." Charlie grimaced and grit his teeth to keep the counter in place. He caught a glimpse of those knuckles as he finally took his weight off of the counter. "I'd hate to see the other guy," he said, gesturing with a wave of his hand towards the bruised knuckles.
Charlie hung back, walking through the halls of the place he'd called home. It was the first safe place he'd ever known and he was lost within his recollections of the friends and teachers that had taken the frightened child and turned him into a healthy little boy. As he walked down the main hall towards the kitchen, there was a smile on his face. He felt like he had come home.
Home was currently a noisy place - at least the kitchen was. Declan, one of the few who wandered in and out of Rose House unhindered, was hammering at one of the counter-tops, settling it back into place.
The banging didn't seem to be bothering Ro, though, who was sat at the kitchen table with a mug of something that smelled suspiciously like chocolate mint and a stack of papers. Every now and then, she would make a mark on one of the papers. She glanced up as Charlie appeared at the entrance to the kitchen, smiling. "I take it everything is settled, then?"
"Yes, ma'am. I start training with Ed on Tuesday." Charlie nodded and skirted away around the table. "That counter's always been a bit off. Glad to see somebody's finally fixing it." He knew better than to disturb Ro when she was grading papers, so he turned to the guy fixing the cabinet. "Can you use a hand?"
Declan blinked, a little surprised at being addressed. People usually looked straight past him. He paused in his hammering, turning to look the newcomer over. "Depends," he shrugged. "Can you figure out a way to stop that mane of yours getting trapped while you work?"
That reply got Charlie to laugh. "Yeah, I think I can manage that." He pulled an elastic snood from his pocket and within moments the long mane of golden curls was tucked neatly within the crocheted net. "So, what can I do to help out?"
Staring at the snood, Declan snorted, a crooked grin appearing on his face. He scratched at the stubble on his chin. "Never thought I'd see a fella wearing one of those," he muttered, taking up his hammer again. "Lean good and hard on the counter, would ya?" He drew another long nail from his tool belt. "M'name's Dec, by the way."
"What's wrong with a snood?" Charlie did as asked, he lay his hands upon the counter and applied most of his weight into the lean. "Charlie," he offered quickly. "Can you think of any other way of controlling all of this hair? I can't."
"Nothin', nothin'." Declan lifted a knee up onto the counter, centred the nail and tapped it in. After a few of those taps, he started to hammer it in for real, and both men would feel the counter shift as the nail bit in. "Could always do those pretty plait things girls like," he suggested, lowering his knee again. He winced a little, switching the hammer from right to left hand, and flexing his fingers. There were some fairly sizeable bruises on his knuckles.
"Yeah, the girls like to do that. On a hot day, feels pretty good." Charlie grimaced and grit his teeth to keep the counter in place. He caught a glimpse of those knuckles as he finally took his weight off of the counter. "I'd hate to see the other guy," he said, gesturing with a wave of his hand towards the bruised knuckles.