fandomtownies | The Perk, Tuesday Afternoon

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The Perk, Tuesday Afternoon

For once, Karla wasn't making tragic faces at all the coffee on display that she was (mostly) not allowed to have. It was fall on the island, which meant caramel apple cider. Her mug was two-thirds cider, the remaining third was the Perk's delicious whipped cream which extended into a high, unsteady mound in the air. Just looking at it made her smile.

Warren was also thrilled that it was cider season, because it meant that he could enjoy an Americano for the first time in...months? Without getting in trouble, even.

It was heaven.

"Did you know that they tried to convince me to add pumpkin spice to my cider?" Karla asked. "You don't know what I had to threaten to convince them to never mention that phrase in my presence again."

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"Isn't pumpkin spice just... I don't know, cinnamon and nutmeg? Couldn't they just say cinnamon and nutmeg? Unless they're asking to put pumpkin in, too. But why would you put pumpkin into an apple cider, anyway?"

Warren asked the important questions in life, really. He had a double Americano and was feeling nothing shy of invincible, so he was willing to go out on that limb. For humanity, and all.

"Is that what it is?" Karla asked. "Okay, that probably wouldn't have been too bad. That's what we add to mull cider in Glacia properly anyway."

This wasn't mulled cider, just warm cider. Still good, but not the same.

"The important part of the story is that's how I ended up with all this extra whipped cream." She grinned at him over the top of it all. "Doesn't this look delicious?"

Delicious and not-for-sharing?

"It does," Warren agreed easily. "I might have to get one for myself. Maybe two for the road before we leave."

Warren had been bitten on more than one occasion, getting too close to Karla's whipped cream. He was learning.

"So, that's why the barista was crying? I had wondered."

"She was threatening to put pumpkins in my cider," Karla sniffed. "Threatening to ruin a pregnant woman's cider. She's lucky she's only crying."

"I think she was offering, not threatening," Warren noted, idly, "but point made. If you wanted those things in your cider, you would've ordered them."

He'd just bared his teeth when she'd offered to put it into his Americano. Teeth and claws. No threats necessary.

Sadly, Karla was lacking in overt weaponry. Well, there was her snake tooth, but that would have required a little more explanation than she was really interested in giving at the time.

"How's your coffee? Untainted by anything not pure caffeine?" She leaned over a little, debating whether it was worth trying to steal a sip.

"No pumpkin to be found," Warren agreed, hunkering forward and clinging to the cup a little more tightly, wings mantling behind him.

No. Bad Karla. No touching the Americano.

"Probably not as exciting as your mountain of whipped cream, though."

So turn your attention right back to that, Miss.

"The baby wants to try a sip."

Best. Excuse. Ever.

"She's too young, she wouldn't like it anyway," Warren replied evenly, just smiling at Karla over the top of his glass. "Maybe when she's older."

Karla stuck her tongue out at him. "I'll process it for her first," she said. "But I'm building a future Worthington here. Americano is part of the process."

"Start her on it too early and she might end up like my father."

Warren's tone was still mild, but this time it was accompanied by an eyebrow raise.

"I suppose I could get you some decaf..."

Karla hissed and shied away, like a vampire threatened with sunlight.

"I won't have you using such language in front of the baby," she said, holding her hands protectively over the sides of her stomach. "We're raising this child with standards and decency, dammit."

"And a decided lack of caffeine until she's older," Warren agreed with a smirk. "But a strong appreciation for apple cider, isn't that right?"

If she came close to his Americano again, he was going to snatch some of that whipped cream. Just to be spiteful.

Just for that, she was totally having an unexpected craving for something ridiculous tonight. You wait, Warren. You just wait.

"Well, I don't know how you expect me to be able to build a tiny human without caffeine," she pouted. "It's a twenty-four hour job. No rest, no vacations! Not for almost ten months!"

"Then just think - You're a third of the way there," Warren replied, completely unruffled. "But I can get you a donut, if you'd like a reward."

He'd be taking his coffee with him.

He was the absolute worst. There was a round or three of cradle in his immediate future.

"I want three donuts," Karla declared. "And a bearclaw. I'm pretty sure I deserve at least three donuts and a bearclaw for assembling a human all by myself with no caffeine at all."

Warren would probably be more swayed by this reasoning if it wasn't the one that Karla had been hard-wired into for over three months, now. As it stood, he mostly just shrugged his shoulders. Sure, he could get her three donuts and a bearclaw. He'd probably just go for broke and get a dozen.

"Sure," he agreed. "Any particular kind of donut, or do you want me to surprise you?"

Ha, like she'd leave what kind of donut up to Warren's discretion.

Ha! Yeah right. Donuts were SRS BZNS.

"Honey glaze, chocolate sprinkle, and the cream-filled ones with the chocolate on top," Karla instructed. "...You might need both hands to carry them."

Keep trying, Karla.

"You're right," Warren replied, pulling himself to his feet, coffee still in hand. And then, he did the unthinkable, and knocked back the last of what was in the cup.

He set the empty cup down on the table.

"Problem solved."

It was amazing, just how honey-sweet his smile could be when he was being a complete brat.

Could you get divorced if you weren't married yet? Were you sure? Karla needed to know. For reasons.

Karla was just going to wordlessly watch Warren go to the counter and order her donuts, jaw agape, and hope that she'd come up with something suitable by the time he returned.

Point to Warren.

Since she was girl-shaped again and could go home safely, Emma had been packing to head back to New York when her phone had beeped at her with Karla's email.

Packing was abandoned, a reply was sent, and in moments she was walking through the door of the Perk, causing baristas to duck & cover. Some things would never change.

Karla glanced at the cowering baristas and sighed. She'd put the fear of her into one of them, but not all the way Emma had.

Well, everyone needed to have goals, she supposed.

"Kiss kiss," she said with a wave. "Any physical damage has to go to him. He's got the Healing factor and it's his fault."

"Did they miss a section in your vaunted magical healer training about how it takes two to make a baby?" Emma asked sweetly, snagging a chair and dragging it with her to the table. "I mean, I'm rather sure we covered that bit here at Fandom, but it seems you've failed to understand the math behind it."

"Males are supposed to defend and protect," Karla said with the practice of someone who'd had this argument a lot.

Go figure who with.

"Means that it's his fault."

Warren just shook his head, smiling serenely over the top of his mug like somebody who had heard this argument a million times already.

"We have one hell of a story to tell the kid once its older," he shared. "About how we were both almost killed the day he or she was conceived. The baby is like a consolation prize."

A horribly timed one, and Warren was well aware of that fact. But thinking of it that way was better than letting Karla's 'it's Warren's fault' thing get to him.

"She's better than a consolation prize," Karla retorted, giving Warren a quick nuzzle. Not that they knew for sure the gender of their child yet, but they kept accidentally referring to it as 'her.'

As Kayla.

"Though it'll be funny to present her that way to our enemies. 'Oh, you hate us enough to try to kill us? Well look at that, we've reproduced. Suck on it.'"

Emma just glared at Karla. "Gross, Karla. Gross."

If she meant the PDA, revenge reproduction, or the idea of Hobart sucking anything, was up for debate

"I'm still stuck on the fact you seem to think that 1) there is ANY Realm ANYWHERE where men are capable of 'protecting' with the protection on a reliable and regular basis when it is scientifically known that part of their brain is in their dick - no offense Worthington - and 2) that you're going through with this."

Early fall wasn't a bad time to return to the ol' stomping grounds, Leda decided. Though it'd been...she didn't know how long since she'd last been here.

Really she was just glad she'd remembered where the Perk was.

Whistling (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W5HP3zesMMc), she came in and cast about for anyone she knew. If she didn't find them here she'd get some delicious, and then continue her search.

Well, Leda would find at least one person she knew, even if Karla was looking a little different these days. At fourteen weeks along (sixteen, going by the stupid book she was reading that started roughly two weeks before conception, go figure), both her belly and her boobs were a lot more rounded than they'd ever been before.

"Leda!" she said, standing up and waving her old friend over. "Kiss kiss! Come here and say hello!"

"Well hey there Mama!" Leda grinned. She complied eagerly. She could get coffinated beverages anytime, but she hadn't seen Karla in what seemed like decades. She didn't think it'd actually been that long.

"Congratulations and condolences in advance." She'd seen a few of these things grow, and knew there were some fun times to come.

"I've mostly stopped puking and my tits look better than ever, so today it's congratulations," Karla said, giving Leda a hug as soon as she got close enough. "If I go back to hating the smell of garlic and frying onions, I'll take all of those condolences and more."

"I didn't want to say anything, but yeah." Leda snickered. "Now I've been saving this bit of advice for just such an occasion, remember this phrase; 'get off the table'." It was possible their kid wouldn't be into climbing, but she wasn't willing to put any money on that.

Worse than that, their kid would be a tiny little flier!

"I'll take the kid being on the table if it means I don't have try to get it down off the ceiling with a broom or something," Karla said. "Mother Night. Why did we think this was a good idea?"

"That I admit I didn't think of." Is that where Coal kept hiding? Oh, and now she was picturing a little one who'd floated to the ceiling and didn't know how to get down.

She hugged Karla again, as much to dispel the unpleasant image as to reassure her friend.

"Hey, you guys are gonna be great parents. And you've got sooooo many friends who'll help you out. And I'd suggest weighted shoes to keep the kid within arms reach, but knowing your gene pool, he or she would probably figure out how to get out of them really quickly." Not helping Leda.

Hannibal had already known about the "lump", but he wasn't going to miss a chance to visit, no matter what the excuse.

"Karla, Warren." He gave them both a smile and held out a hand to Warren to shake. "How have you been?"

Warren smiled and took Hannibal's hand, shaking it firmly.

"I've been well, though I won't speak for Karla," because how well she was doing depended on such nebulous factors as the changing tides, the ripeness of the closest piece of cheese, and how many hummingbirds sneezed in France yesterday, these days. "It's good to see you, Hannibal."

"And you." He hadn't gotten to speak with Warren much when he'd been in Glacia last. "How is prospective fatherhood feeling?"

"Just as terrifying as ever," Warren replied, smiling wryly. "I have no idea what I'm doing. Not even the foggiest clue. But I'm told that's pretty much the norm anyway, so I'm not exactly feeling anything new and revolutionary."

"Very normal," Hannibal assured him. "But, so I'm told, still terrifying. I'm sure you'll both do splendidly, if the children other versions of you have raised are any indication. They seem to have turned out quite well."

...loud, but well.

The loudness, they got from their mother.

"I'm pretty fond of them, even after just a few meetings," Warren admitted. "If Karla and I do half as well this time around as those other versions have, I'll be happy. I just have no idea where all of these parenting skills we apparently have came from."

Karla and Warren both really didn't have much in the way of experience even having parents, never mind being them.

"From your friends, of course," Hannibal answered with a chuckle. "And from your knowledge of what not to do, and your common sense."

"I've started a book," Warren shared, "of what not to do. For personal reference. I think about ninety-five percent of it so far already stems from personal experience, but I'd be happy for any advice anybody has to offer."

Because filling a book with things like 'don't try to get rid of your kid's limbs' was mostly just redundant.

Hannibal thought for a moment, then offered, "Listen to what everybody has to say, then make your own decisions. Don't let the fear of failure or of giving offense influence you to do what you think is wrong."

He smirked. "Except for me, naturally. Always listen to me."

"Especially you," Warren laughed, shaking his head a little. "But that first part is sound advice. Karla and I are the parents of this baby, ultimately it's going to be up to use to raise her."

No, they didn't know the gender of the baby for certain just yet, but 'her' seemed to be becoming the default, these days.

Warren's tone sobered a little before he added, "And given that we'll be raising her in Glacia, and just how dangerous things are right now, we... really can't afford to go against our own better judgment anyway."

"Should I be offended?" He wasn't; that just showed good sense. He idly wondered how much Karla might have told Warren about him.

"Trust your own instincts," Hannibal agreed, matching Warren's seriousness. "And should you ever need somewhere to go outside of Glacia, my house is always open. Although I'm aware Fandom may not always be a safe option," he added wryly.

Karla held her face up to Hannibal for a kiss. "It's been five days since I last threw up and almost two weeks since the smell of something I love has sent me fleeing from the room. I'm feeling pretty good. You?"

Hannibal gave her the kiss and an affectionate hug. "That's very good; I hate cooking bland things, even for a friend. I've been well. Enjoying a quiet week with the children gone; I was actually thinking of visiting the lot of you."

"You know you're always welcome," Karla said, giving him an expression so innocent it could only be followed by complete harassment. "Shall I leave a packet of herbs in your rooms, you think?"

Hannibal chuckled. "I've no further plans for the salle, I promise. But I wouldn't mind seeing the herbs anyway. Shall I bring some of my books and medicines?"

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The Perk, Tuesday Afternoon

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