fandomtownies | J,GoB, Late Saturday Morning

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J,GoB, Late Saturday Morning

Isabelle had been looking forward to a nice relaxing weekend with Flick in Alicante. Her father was away from Idris on business and she had his whole house to herself.

But then her morning training had been interrupted by a fire message. We're here on Fandom and hungry. Anna. And that sent Isabelle's plans on a wholly different course, which involved dropping everything and fetching Flick from the Academy (on horseback, how else?) so they could take a portal to Fandom.

And now they were making their way to Jeff, God of Biscuits because that seemed like the likeliest place to find their kid –- kids. A least, if Anna's insistence on them buying her bagels last time around had been anything to go by.

"By the Angel, I wonder who the other one is."

That was not the first time she'd said that o the trek from Idris to here.

[ooc: Izzy's here for the fiancée and the brats, but post is open for your pastry needs!]

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"Don't look at me like I know," Flick said with a shake of his head. "Maybe she just had a slip of the tongue or something. Maybe it's just her. Or she's got a friend or something but not another kid of ours."

"Or maybe it is another kid of ours," Isabelle retorted, resisting the urge to stick out her tongue at him. Though he could probably still hear the urge in her tone. "This is what happens when you say you want a big family, you know."

"You can't just go blaming me," Flick said with a shake of his head. "It's not like you didn't agree, you know."

"I think you'll find I can do whatever I want," Isabelle replied, as they rounded a corner and ended up almost in front of J,GoB.

Okay. She was actually finding she was... kind of nervous?

"Okay, you can do whatever you want but I also don't have to just accept it," he said with a shake of his head. "And in this case, I am not accepting it."

"Baby, you're so stubborn."

Pot, kettle.

They were almost at the door, and she was stalling. Just a little bit.

"You nervous or something?" he asked curiously. "You've done this before. No one hated anyone, no one punched anyone. We can do it again, baby."

"I'm not nervous," Isabelle replied indignantly. Never mind that she'd actually stopped, just some steps away from the door.

Never mind that the indignation didn't sound like she was trying too hard to be taken seriously with it.

"What if it doesn't go as well?"

"Why wouldn't it go well?" Flick asked her, frowning. "It went well last time. We did okay."

"You made our daughter stalk off in a huff," she pointed out. Not that it hadn't still all worked out great in the end. "I don't know, I just... I want it to be good."

Because all possible futures with kids and family life seemed to actually be in their grasp, this time around. That made it different. More significant.

But she didn't quite have the words for all of that.

"We should probably go in."

"Hey, that wasn't entirely my fault," Flick felt he had to say before shaking his head.

"Anyway, that's ancient history," he told her. "It'll be good but we have to go inside before we can make that happen. So."

He agreed with her statement and reached for her hand. "Let's go inside."

Isabelle twined her fingers with his and gave them a little squeeze. Then she drew a breath and squared her shoulders – although she tried not to be too obvious about either of those things – and tugged him along so they could enter the bakery.

Hopefully the kids hadn't seen them through the window.

"It's gonna be okay," Flick assured her, giving her hand a squeeze and following her into the bakery. "If it's not, we'll just run away and hide somewhere."

He wasn't really serious. Maybe half serious.

Isabelle would've liked to pretend to be above running away from their child, potentially children. But she wasn't, really, if she was fully honest.

So hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

She didn't reply as they walked in, just held his hand a little more tightly than necessary as her eyes quickly scanned the bakery – which quickly turned out to be an unnecessary action, because Anna called out to them from a booth to the side.

"Over here! Though, one of you should go pay at the counter." She didn't even pretend to look apologetic. "We didn't bring any money."

"Wow, we just got here and we're already being ordered around," Flick said with a snicker. He let go of Isabelle's hand and nudged her towards the kids.

"I'll take care of the money and get you something to drink."

Isabelle held onto his hand for a few seconds longer than she should have, before she let go.

"Okay," she said, even though it wasn't okay. She was fantastic at pretending! Which was a skill she was going to need, now that she took steps towards the booth and realized that no, Anna was not alone.

Flick shot a glance over at the table, saw that there wasn't just one kid and took a slow, slow breath.

So, this was going to be a different kind of weekend. The new kid, the boy, looked to be about Jude's age which Flick thought was a good sign. He could handle someone like that.

He bought the drinks quickly and then joined Isabelle at the table, handing her a coffee and smiling brightly.

In the meantime, Isabelle had taken a seat with their children. Anna and the boy were sitting on one side, Isabelle on the other. She smiled back at him as she took the coffee, grateful for something to do with her hands.

"Daaaad," Henry drawled, immediately upon Flick's arrival. "Mom says I'm not getting a muffin right now."

This might've had something to do with the remains of two donuts already in front of him. Anna rolled her eyes.

"Well, right now doesn't mean never," Flick pointed out before taking a seat next to Isabelle. "So, look on the bright side, kid."

Son. What was his name again?

Flick looked over to Isabelle for help on that one.

"His name's Henry," Isabelle told him, with a slight softness t her tone that she kind of hoped their kids would not pick up on.

Fat chance, probably.

"Hen -- really, Henry?" Flick asked, glancing down at his son (that would never not be weird) and staring. "We named you Henry?"

"It's a good name!" Henry replied, frowning lightly as if to dare them to claim otherwise.

Anna rolled her eyes again. "It was a pretty difficult birth, and Mom was pretty much out of it when you were naming him," she said. Not a stranger to some of their more morbid naming schemes, no. "Something about not letting the negative rule you."

"I'm the best Henry," Henry decided. "And the best Robert! You always say."

"... The what now?" asked Isabelle. Who'd taken henry just fine but Robert?

"As in, Henry Robert?"

Guess she should've seen it coming.

"Henry Robert?" Flick repeated, glancing over at Isabelle now that they knew the full name.

"Well, you're already the best Henry I know," Flick said, brightening a bit. "So, what we say is true. It's law. That's what parents can say, right?"

Isabelle was... processing. (And there was definitely going to be a 'what were we thinking?' conversation to be had about this later on.) But she was smiling. Henry was adorable, even if he'd been named after two terrible fathers.

"Right!" Henry agreed. "I mean, not always." Because sometimes parents' word being law was booooring. "But about this. 'Cause I'm the best."

"You are, are you?" he asked, slanting a look at Anna. "And your sister agrees with this? She's given up the mantle of being the best?"

"He's seven," Anna pointed out, scoffing. "I'm not conpeting with him about being the best before he has Marks on him."

This comment made Henry pout. Just a little bit.

"Neither am I," Flick told her, holding up one of his arms. "We're in the same boat, Henry. Don't pout."

"And you're both on your way," Isabelle said, while Henry held up his own arm and looked from it to Flick's arm and back again, seeming to marvel at the lack of Marks on his dad. Guess he hadn't really noticed that before right then.

Thankfully, Anna had explained the situation to him before their parents had arrived. Still, Isabelle looked at Henry and quirked a little smile. "Your dad's right, kind of. With the difference that he's the only mundie at this table."

"Which makes me special and unique and awesome," Flick told her smugly. "Besides, your mom's the only one who's gonna marry a mundie at this table."

"You can't know that," Anna interjected, then gave her brother a sly look. "Henry might marry a mundie some day."

Henry immediately pulled a face. Not at the thought of mundies, at the thought of marrying.

"What's that face for, Junior?" Flick asked, snickering. "The thought of getting married? Kissing a pretty man or a pretty woman? It's pretty cool, you know. I can hide behind your mother and let her kick everyone's ass who's mean to me."

"I want to kick people's asses myself!" Henry argued.

Isabelle couldn't help a tiny snicker slippig out. He was adorable. And feisty.

"Why's that, Junior?" Flick asked curiously. "Why the violent streak? Are there asses out there that need kicking?"

"Always!" Henry insisted. "Demon asses!"

"Not that you're kicking any yet, little brother," Anna noted. "And you probably shouldn't be saying 'asses' that much."

Like anyone actually cared. Except Grandma Maryse, who despaired.

"Yeah. Watch your damn language," Flick said with a laugh. "I'm sure me and your mom don't ever use that language in front of you. Well, your mom does because she's depraved but I'm a saint."

"Wait, I'm depraved?" Isabelle asked him, mock scandalized. "You're the one who brought up asses in the first place, baby."

Anna rolled her eyes again.

"What's depraved mean?" piped up Henry.

"Depraved means she's a terrible influence," Flick said sagely, "because that's what she is. On me, on you, on everyone. Just depraved all around."

Henry looked downright offended. "That's rude!" he exclaimed. "And wrong. Mom's the best mom!"

Isabelle preened.

"She's the only mom!" Flick pointed out with a laugh. "Unless your sister has something to tell us."

"Well..." said Anna, lettin her voice trail off, because she had them for parents and had no option but to be a jerk sometimes.

"I'll let your mother handle that," Flick said with a shake of his head. "She can take that up and explain to you why that's good or bad or whatever. You are all hers."

"How about I buy everyone another round of sugary baked goods instead of handling anything at all?" Isabelle asked.

To much rejoicing from her son, who had now clearly forgotten his outrage. "Best mom!"

"Only Mom!" Flick put in but smiled as he said the words. He even passed over a few bills to Isabelle to help out with the cost. She could afford it but he wanted to be best Dad too okay.

Isabelle accepted his money because she knew what he was doing. And as she got up to slip past him, she bent down briefly to whisper in his ear.

"I love them," she said. "And I love you."

The future looked bright.

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J,GoB, Late Saturday Morning

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