Defective Defecting

You can’t blame a witch for being utterly at the mercy of a wizard who should have been on the cover of those trashy magazines that all Hogwarts teenagers pored over, cooing about the Quidditch players inside while ripping out the glamour charms that purported to sort out their frizz with none of the expense of Sleekeazy’s. Those charms never worked, of course, but no one ever seemed to listen to Millie when she would tell them and she would be the one escorting the girls down to the Hospital Wing to get their hair regrown. Or, y’know, put out the fire. One or the other.

Keiran, much to her delight and dismay, knew exactly which buttons he needed to press. He had no fear of pressing them, either. But then he’d take his fingers off and leave her to squirm and like the malevolent wizard he was, he would listen to her mews of frustration with infuriating impassivity. He was a sexual psychopath, really. Millie blinked at that particular thought and her smirk exploded over her face, a giggle rippling past her lips.

She nodded, trying to show him she had been listening. She’d been paying attention to him, sure, but just not necessarily to his words. Something about dinner. Something about being embarrassing, honing their annoying parental unit skills before the main even of their own children. That was a little too much for the witch to contemplate. She didn’t think she’d ever want to see Kelly or Darcie bringing home people they liked. It was too horrifying a prospect. Liam, too, for that matter because he was hers. She was not ready to share her boy with anyone. Not now, not ever.

She didn’t really hear it, you see, because her husband’s mouth was burning over her skin and his fingers had once again moved over her thighs. She gasped as her hips canted forward of their own accord, her skin tingling with need. Her arms wound around his neck and she closed her eyes tightly, trying desperately to hang onto one last strip of control in case he changed his mind. She had no idea what she’d do, then. Probably go home. She’d come back for Darcie in the afternoon after a cold shower and, well…

Actually. A lightbulb went off in the witch’s head. Literally, in fact. She’d not spent all that time getting trained up by Robert and co. for absolutely nothing. She could use wandless magic. Not in great amounts, not least because she spread it all over to watch over the children and so she only ever had a little bit at her immediate disposal, but she could do it. So, really, she could take back her agency in this entire matter with just a wave of her hand. And it only took a moment to realise that before she actually did it.

The lock clicked over on the door as a wicked smirk curled at her lips and the room pulsed with magic as a silencing charm settled around it. A notice-me-not spell also followed. She felt a little bit bad for the last one but she didn’t want to scar Liv for life if she wandered back there to give them their lunch. She put Liv out of her mind for the moment. They could resume their worry in a little bit and eat their lunch and all could try and be sensible again while they worked out what they were going to do with Tobias. Right now? She had other things on the proverbial menu. Like Keiran, for example.

Millie’s finger caught under his chin and urged him up, catching him in a bruising kiss. They had never been want of fire as a couple but this seemed to her exceptional. Her hands felt down his chest, reaching to pull his shirt from his trousers before lacing one finger back up across the buttons, a touch of magic removing each one from their place to save her having to fix it later for being clumsy in her haste. Her touch spread across his chest, suddenly contrastingly light and teasing. Her fingertips trickled over his ribs and tumbled down over his belly, tempting their way across the top of his trousers before sliding back up to curl around his neck.

At least two could play the teasing game. But they’d both be winners in the end.

Keiran turned his head in surprise, staring at the door as though they had just been caught. Of course, he had missed the fact that Millie had sent out a hand to dart the magic across the room. He had certainly felt it, but the recognition had not settled on him properly until Millie drew him in and a sort of understanding set in. Did a person's magic feel different to different people? Because, for Keiran, Millie's felt like this.

Like love and warmth with a bit of something fascinating and distracting underneath. Maybe that was why he could never pay attention to his work when Millie was warming the room or levitating a drink over to him.

Perhaps he would have to be this whole 'annoyed father' person more often. If it so captured her attention and induced moments like this, then he most definitely would make a point to be more protective and stern. Or, he supposed somewhere in the back of his mind, that maybe it had stemmed from the fact that he'd popped (literally) into the exact center of a duel between a stranger and a man that was in charge of rounding up bad guys. That probably hadn't helped her stress level, realistically. That could've attributed to her lack of shouting after he snubbed Liv, as well, he figured.

But, again, most of that wasn't even consciously registered at the time, because Millie seemed quite impatient and he obviously had a track record of giving her what she wanted.

His lips pulled at hers, and he threaded his fingers into the hair behind her ear. All the same, the other hand inched closer. But Millie's aforementioned impatience seemed to be at a record high, and as her fingers traipsed down his chest, his own movements slowed in surprise.

Keiran broke away from the kiss, tilting his head backwards against the top of the chair, and gasped out a curse that was indecently ironic. It was something that he probably would have made fun of someone for in any other circumstance. Oddly, he felt he must have said that word more times that morning than he had in weeks. He would probably realize it properly later and wonder what that said about him, but there were vastly more important things to worry about in the moment.

Including but not limited to: sitting forward, pulling her against his chest, and holding onto her while he stood and until he sat her down atop the end of his desk. The scene wasn't entirely unfamiliar, if one thought back to his days as a professor. Keiran leaning over his wife to claim an entirely unapologetic, yet thoroughly demanding kiss. Her, with green fabric pooling around her waist, because obviously it was green. She was clever enough, his girl.

His hands released her just long enough for him to drop his shirt onto the chair that was now empty behind him, and Keiran was of the fairly-informed opinion that when his fingers found their target, then Millie was bound to be in vast amounts of trouble. So he wasted no time. After all, he needed no direction, really, after having been with her for several years now. Still, he pulled away from the kiss, leaning far enough back that he could look at her. He wasn't sure how he could possibly still be absorbing just how much he had missed her while he was away, but a month or two was clearly not enough to alleviate it.

He offered her a series of brief, halting kisses even as he persisted elsewhere and as his free hand began undoing the belt that trapped the fabric of her shirt. Just as it decided to come undone, Keiran pressed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. "I love you."

The best part was after, in whichever way it manifested itself. For most, it was the build-up or, indeed, the main event. For her, it was the aftermath, when breathing slowed and heartbeats regulated once more. Her favourite thing was encasing him back in his clothes, rebuilding the put-together man that he projected to the world, the one that she had devoured, undone, and lavished with love. Her lips traversed across each piece of flesh as she slowly obscured it from view, roping up his legs until she’d buckled his belt and drawing slowly across his chest, rising with every button that her fingers enclosed in its proper hole. Then, with a lingering kiss at the base of his throat she lifted her head and reached for his mouth with her own.

“I love you,” she whispered finally, in reply to his earlier utterance. She’d gotten lost after teasing him for his slip of the tongue ‘that’s the idea, love’ she’d said. Then, of course, the idea had become reality and they had reached their crescendo, finding those familiar patterns that made each other tick, that made each other’s senses explode with sudden clarity. When their bodies tumbled together, spent and desirous of a nap, they slowly came back down to earth. With her fingers in his hair, she had urged him up and, after a few cleaning charms for them both, she started to redress him. There was something much more sensual in that act, she thought, than any other. A truer declaration of love than the joining of their bodies to find pleasure.

Redressed too, her fingers stretched across his cheek and she smiled, allowing herself a moment to reveal in the feeling of being in his arms. She knew her hair was in disarray, her mouth red for all the kissing, and her cheeks aglow with happiness as though everything in her world had been righted once more. She did look thoroughly ravished, indeed, but it was nothing that a few bits of magic couldn’t sort out. She wound her arms around his waist in the meantime and let her head rest against his chest, listening out for the heartbeat that strummed surely against his ribcage.

You can’t blame the witch for not wanting to move. The bell on the door had rung, no doubt signalling Liv’s return, but she didn’t want to let go, not even for a moment. She felt the need to hover about him, to stay connected to him, to make sure he knew that she was there, if only because she needed to make sure that he still was, too. She lifted her head and brought her eyes to his, feeling her heart bloom exponentially in her chest. Her smile grew of its own accord and she laughed a little, unable to keep the feeling inside of her.

“How is it possible to love someone as much as I love you, hm? What’ve you done to me, Mr Hayes?”

Keiran moved her hair out of the way of her collar, and his fingers brushed over her neck a few times, almost absentmindedly, before they drifted across her shoulders. They didn't have a particular path or destination intended to be followed or reached, but it wouldn't have felt natural to simply step away and halt his contact with her after something intimate.

It wouldn't have felt right to not have her there, even if only to calm him down, to talk to him when he needed someone. The simple things. He wouldn't have been the same without her around to ask about his day or greet him in the morning.

"I wouldn't say you're entirely innocent yourself, Mrs. Hayes," he returned with a smile, shifting his weight as he enveloped her more fully with his arms. Not a moment later, though, he reached up to comb his fingers through her hair, calming it down. His eyes followed the movement, continuing until she look as put-together as she had when they'd started. Or as close as he could manage, anyway. Then he sought out her gaze again.

"C'mon, then, love. Liv should be back by now."

Stepping back, Keiran released her for a moment, only to pick up her hand and curl her arm around his. Despite the serious expression on his face, he turned and gave her a wink - something he had probably picked up from the charming old lady who had run the last inn he'd had to stay at. Somehow it had stuck, and the habit was near impossible for him to break.

Then he took down Millie's wards and opened the door so they could wander out and look for Livia. When he saw her, Keiran slowed to a stop, half expecting her to cry or shout at him. Worry straightened his shoulders and tensed his muscles despite Millie standing there next to him.

"Liv," he started gently, concern and regret pulling the corners of his eyebrows down. "A mhuirnín, I'm sorry. You... scared me." Keiran let out a short sigh, shifting his weight. As much as he hated to admit that in front of them, of course it had. That wasn't surprising, most likely. He felt a little bit bad about it regardless, though, and dropped his gaze.

Sparks had been uncomfortably busy. As a result, it had taken Livia much longer than she would have liked to fetch lunch. She’d had to squeeze through the thronging masses to get to the counter and had to go through a dozen or so items on the menu board before finally landing on things that they’d all like and that the bistro-slash-bakery hadn’t run out of. As it was, it was Liv who had gotten something slightly suspect for lunch. She wasn’t sure what a roasted squash and couscous salad really entailed and she was feeling a little bit anxious about it but at least it looked good. It definitely had that going for it.

Once everything was bagged up, Liv counted out the coins that Millie had given her, took her change and hurried out before she got squashed completely. Blessedly, Diagon Alley was a lot less busy, although she did spot a few law enforcement types sniffing about further up the road, clearly having been alerted to the earlier altercation. Liv kept her head down as she passed them, in no mood to discuss any of it with representatives from the Ministry. She knew that she wouldn’t have too many answers for them if she did have to and that sort of thing never ended well. One of them in particular looked quite grumpy, too. Not good.

“There are Aurors out there,” Athena announced when Liv walked in through the door. Her attention was outside, fear pinching at her features. Liv looked at the woman, her eyes drawn to the way Athena’s fingers were massaging the inside of her left wrist. She had never seen the tattoos for herself but Millie had told her. Azkaban numbers, similar but not the same as Peter’s. And where he let his stay on show as a reminder to himself that he needed to keep to a better path, Athena hid hers, marking it as a period of time she’d like to erase.

“They won’t hurt you, Thena,” Liv attempted to sooth, sitting the brown paper bag on the desk and taking out the steak pasty that Athena religiously had with whatever salad she brought from home. “They’re not looking for you, anyway,” she pointed out, glancing out of the windows briefly before looking down at Darcie who was entirely unaware of the tension, still content to play with Tobias!cat.

“They’re never looking for anyone, particularly,” Athena reminded her. “But I’m marked. Only an idiot wouldn’t sweat if they had Azkaban on their file and there were Aurors poking about.”

Livia thought to Peter, whose most recent interaction with Aurors had come the week before when someone had raised the alarm in the middle of a bar fight. He’d gotten them outside but got caught amongst the fracas and when the Aurors arrived they interviewed him intensely – much more than they did the actual brawlers. Liv couldn’t recall him ever looking so scared and that night he’d slept curled around Fin, the boy clasped tightly in his arms as though to say that no one upon no one was going to wrench him away.

“They’re not going to get you, Thea,” Liv reached for her hand, taking the one that was worrying the skin of her wrist. “They’ll have to go through me first.”

Athena appraised her for a few moments, as though trying to measure whether the little witch was being truthful or not. Her eyes widened a little and her face cleared of its anxiety when she found that Liv was being earnest and she reached out, pulling the girl tightly into her arms.

The footsteps on the floorboards made the witch release her friend and she stepped away to fiddle with lunch as Livia turned. Her arms furled across her chest and she kept her eyes low, not entirely sure if she could trust herself to meet Keiran’s gaze. She wasn’t sure quite how she’d react to what she’d find there. And then he spoke and she couldn’t stand still. Throwing her arms around his neck, Liv hugged Keiran as tightly as she could, madly half scared that if she didn’t, he’d disappear again. She squeezed her eyes shut and committed it to memory, everything about him, from his smell to his sound.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She mumbled. “I didn't mean to. I didn’t want to scare you. I’m sorry, papa.”

Millie bit her lip, her eyes watering a little despite herself, and she met Athena’s equally cloudy gaze. The two girls smiled and Millie hurried off to fetch the tissue that was held out to her.

“Soppy cat,” Athena teased, shoving a piece of cloth under her own eyes.

“Takes one to know one,” Millie retorted with a sniff, slinging her arm around Thena’s shoulders, knowing that some sort of equilibrium had been reached once more.

Keiran released Millie immediately, hugging Livia to him. He squeezed her even more tightly when she spoke and called him that. It always did him in, and although he wasn't sure if any of his children - by blood or otherwise - had figured that out, but either way, it worked. His chest tightened just like his arms had, and Keiran turned his head to press a kiss against her hair.

"I know, baby girl," he returned gently, swallowing hard. More quietly, he added, "I don't want to lose you, Liv. I can't."

When he realized that they were meant to be having lunch and that Millie and Athena were waiting on them, he stepped back, moving his hands to her shoulders. "C'mon, love. Let's see what you've brought, yeah?"

His hand came up to her cheek for a moment before he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, turning towards Millie and the lunches that Livia had purchased. After glancing Millie's way, he knew that he really did need to break into that topic he so disliked. Otherwise Millie would do it, and then the likelihood that she would actually shout at him was bound to go up exponentially.

"Now," he said as they crossed over to the front counter, "I want you to tell me about this Simon of yours. Mum will want to know what we ought to make when he comes by."

Despite the nonchalance of his voice, his gaze did drift towards his wife, trying to make a point. He didn't actually know what on earth he was supposed to say or do, but he was doing his best. They hadn't even had time to figure out how they wanted to deal with things like this, the pair of them. Didn't people work that out together at some point, long before the day arrived? Perhaps he'd just hoped that they would. Either way, that was an entirely lost cause.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she promised, her voice dropping to match his volume. Her smile was gentle and warmly reassuring on her lips. “I love you. I love this family. I’m not entirely sure what I’d do without you guys.” And that statement was truer than she realised. There was no telling what might have happened to her without their large and sprawling family muscling into her life. They had steadied her and had been the loving arms she’d needed. Without them, it wouldn’t have been the same. She wouldn't have been who she was without them.

Lunch was back on the cards, something she was definitely enthusiastic about. She nodded, smiling at Keiran, and then leaned into him as they moved over to the desk. Millie had lifted out all of their things from the bag. Liv gratefully accepted her salad-y thing and a kiss from Millie. She took up a fork from the counter and peeled off the lid before turning over some of the couscous. Thankfully, everyone else’s things were still hot, too, and Millie thanked Liv for getting the things for them as she handed Keiran his lunch.

Millie’s eyes flicked to Keiran when he spoke and a smirk played at her lips, pride shining in her eyes. She glanced in Liv’s direction and lifted her eyebrows pointedly, urging her to inform Keiran – and, indeed, the rest of them – about Simon. They’d had the misfortune of making his acquaintance the way they had done. Certain, uncomfortable assumptions had been made. Liv knew the man, though, and it was her opportunity to tell them all about him.

“He’s good,” she began, a smile unconsciously surfacing. “I’m not sure if he’s my Simon. That … I mean … I sort of asked right there then earlier on and … well. I sort of said no, at first, originally, when he sort of … expressed interest, I guess. ‘Cause … I don’t … dating’s weird.” She shrugged her shoulders as Millie laughed, nodding in agreement. “And it’s a bit scary but he’s … he’s just sort of lovely really. I mean, we don’t know each other very well but it’s nice. Is that okay?”

“Sounds alright to me,” Athena commented, glancing over at Keiran. “You like him, then?”

“Yeah,” Liv breezed, nodding shakily. “Yeah, I do.”

“And he’s kind to you?” Athena sought to clarify, arching one of her brows.

Liv nodded again, her smile widening as the colour on her cheeks deepened.

Millie’s hand slid across Keiran’s lower back and she leaned her head against his arm, a fond look in her eyes as they swept over Livia.

“Is there some protocol for … kind of … the meet the parents thing?” Liv asked after swallowing a mouthful of her salad.

“That’s what we’re wondering, I think,” Millie chirped, ducking behind Keiran to pick up Darcie and Tobias!cat so the former could have something to eat.

“When I met your uncle,” Athena poked her fork playfully at Keiran, “I was terrified. Your aunt was wonderful, though. Augustus can be a bit prickly. There’s got to be at least one awkward and uncomfortable dinner before everyone relaxes. That’s the main point of protocol, anyway.”

Keiran was listening. Liv was lucky enough to have that going for her, and he would later argue that Simon was, too. Really, her father wanted no part of her explanation, didn't want Athena to agree with it, didn't like that her childhood hadn't belonged to him and Millie, meaning he didn't have an excuse for being bitter about the idea of Livia growing up. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair and Keiran hated it. Like, a lot.

But again, he was indeed listening. And Keiran was very good at being quiet, just as he was at being abrasive. Unfortunately, both Millie and Liv had seen each of those on different occasions, and he knew it wasn't fair. But when they made him nervous, he overcompensated, didn't he? Whether in a positive or a negative way, even he couldn't predict. But it was true regardless.

The thing that interested Keiran the most was what she said about rejecting the boy when he first asked. No wonder he had been so quiet and looking so terrified. Simon hadn't expected to ever meet him. He had thought he'd never get to have her. But he had been persistent in his friendship with her, in ways that Keiran hadn't thought a man like that could manage. Something about Simon had seemed cowardly at the same time as callous, but Keiran didn't know why. Maybe because Simon's hand had been clutching Liv's.

Keiran didn't want to like him. Didn't think that it was possible. But Liv was certainly helping Simon's case. At least enough to keep him from bristling again.

Millie helped too, and he let himself lean against her enough to feel balanced again. He still didn't know how she did that to him, but he wasn't complaining.

"To be fair, I hardly know them myself," Keiran pointed out, nearly taking the opportunity to change the subject once he saw his chance. But he knew he couldn't actually get away with it. "But Liv," he went on, turning back to her, "we sort of already have. I know I made a rubbish first impression but surely it can't be that bad again, yeah? We could... Go to a match or something. Then we won't be able to hear half of anything anybody says, so I can't make things worse, really. And isn't it incredibly early to be worried about his meeting us properly?"

He glanced Millie's way, hoping she had some sort of suggestion as well. When he spoke again, it was as much out of concern as it was a feeling of irritation on her behalf when the question rose in his mind. "Don't forget to tell us about his folks when you meet them, love. If they're no good you might want to keep a close eye on him."

Expecting a whack from Millie, he stood up again, reaching out for his sandwich as though what he had said was just entirely normal and not at all judgmental after he had promised not to be.

"Hey hang on!" Millie's protest sailed through the air before Liv could frame her reply. "What do you mean 'keep an eye on him?' My mum's mental. Have you been keeping an eye on me since you met her?" Her face cracked, losing the sheen of seriousness almost as soon as it had appeared and giggles bubbled up from her chest, rousing ones from Darcie also. The pair leaned into each other, their foreheads knocking together gently as Millie leaned a little to the side to press a kiss to Darcie's cheek. Keiran had been keeping an eye on her -- just not entirely, perhaps, in the way he'd meant Liv to with Simon.

"A match would be good," Liv agreed optimistically as she scooped some butternut squash onto her spoon. Quidditch was a nice, neutral affair. The worst she imagined Simon could be was bored but then he could simply watch the Hayes' - something which always proved a little bit more entertaining than the match itself. There was a Hayes Derby coming up, too. That was what Theo had taken to calling the even of their respective teams playing. She'd seen a handful now and was used to the jargon - "Kegs or Mills to win this year?" - and the ritual of Baldric turning up on the morning of, offering round tickets to them. Merlin only knew where he got them from.

"It is sort of early..." Livia conceded, putting her lunch down, not entirely certain if she actually liked it after all. That was okay. Strawberry laces had recently appeared in her sweetie store under the counter -- possibly actually Keiran's doing and she was endlessly grateful. "But I guess you have met sort of now ... if you can't scare him off then I guess he must be okay, right?"

Millie smirked a little and set Darcie down on the desk, passing a look in Keiran's direction.

"I'm not sure if it's really at the meeting-the-parents stage yet, though," she conceded, thinking about meeting Simon's parents. They had to be nice, surely, because he was. So, that wouldn't be a problem.

Really, what she was most feeling odd about was how when she thought about introducing Simon to her parents, she did immediately think of Keiran and Millie. Her own parents didn't come into it anymore. That wasn't her fault. Theo had explained that to her enough times. Yet ... she couldn't help but feel a bit bad about it. The conversation wasn't the wrong one to be having with Keiran but she wondered why she couldn't be having it with her dad. She knew why, of course, and realised she couldn't have Keiran without losing her parents but she still dreamed of the sort of equilibrium where Octavia was still alive and Gaius was home, safe. A useless dream, really.

"Here," Millie sent her sandwich floating over to Liv. Still bound up and everything. The witch's face clouded with confusion. "You don't like it," Millie's eyes flicked over to the salad. "It's alright. I'll eat Darcie's crusts.* She'll want some milk in a bit anyway, won't you?" Darcie nodded before glancing down at Tobias whom she'd set beside her on the counter having been in danger of being squished between her and her mum. He'd survived. Sort of. To her he looked no more bedraggled than Lucius did after cuddles.

"Eat, Liv," Millie urged. Livia looked down and the sandwich unwrapped itself in her hands, bringing a smile to her lips.

"How do you do that?" She asked, picking up half. Ham and cheese. Classic. Darcie was a just-cheese sort of human. Or, well, that was what Mills tended to order for her anyway. All children liked cheese, right? Liv half suspected that it was due to the spread they put over the bread -- so at least the crusts tasted good for Mills when she was made to eat them.

"I'm full of wonders," Millie retorted airily, a grin curling at her lips as she opened up Darcie's sandwich -- this time unfurling the brown paper by hand. "And your father is a ratbag. Do tell him."

Athena snickered into her lunch, shaking her head.

Liv turned hers and, as deadpan as perhaps humanly possible said to Keiran, "you're a ratbag -- but I think that means she loves you."


* Realisation that I'm not sure of the timeline right now and whether Darcie should have sandwiches or not. Haha.

"Don't be ridiculous," he scolded her, pausing just long enough before adding, "I've had my eye on you long before I ran into her."

A smirk appeared, showing them all just how impressed with himself he was. Ah, the wit was strong with this one.  And he knew it, too. Of course he did. Otherwise he wouldn’t have wished that Oliver were working that afternoon to laugh under his breath and pretend he hadn’t. Keiran nearly did it himself, just because it had been so long since he’d bothered letting any of his sarcasm loose in front of anyone else – especially when it included an obvious homage to what had recently occurred. It didn’t matter to him if nobody else understood, because he knew Millie would.

That was why his gaze skimmed from his lunch to his wife in an entirely obvious way, and why he had trouble keeping himself from moving to stand beside her. He half wished he was the sort that could have just left the words lingering in the air and went on with eating, but it was worth it either way. He sort of hoped that Athena made a face about it, but he wasn’t holding out hope.

Liv conceded that it was, indeed, early to worry about such things, and it lifted a weight off of his shoulders.

“Well then,” Keiran replied slowly, afraid of what he was getting himself into. “Perhaps when it becomes less early for such things, we can do that. The match, I mean.”

He didn’t really agree with Livia’s assessment of Simon’s character, though. Keiran couldn’t tell if the boy was brave or terrified or faking it all, and could actually be entirely batty. Or maybe it was all of the above. Keiran wasn’t sure it mattered either way.  It did strike him, though, halfway through the next thing she said:

It wasn’t at meeting-the-parents level. Despite the fact that Simon had inadvertently met the pair of them. Keiran flicked his gaze towards Millie for a second, before shifting his weight and taking a bite to avoid saying anything. Not that he had any words for it or any idea of what he’d say if he did try. It wasn't his place, he knew he had no right to complain or to comment, but it did slowly carve a circle through his chest, right below his ribcage, because it raised the question of if she really did need him. He knew what she had said only a minute before, but it didn't change the fact that she was properly grown and that Millie's point was fully valid: they could easily lose her, and it would be much harder to get her back that time. Much, much harder. Damn near impossible, really. After all - he wasn't the best at words, really, was he?

But Millie saved it, effectively changing the subject for them. Well, if the subject had technically been breached, anyway. Liv seemed distracted enough, which was good, so Keiran approached Darcie, tearing the melty cheese into little bites for her and passing Millie the outsides as he sank into a chair and drew his littlest baby into his lap. Not so little anymore. He'd show them the gift he had made for the house and for them that weekend, he thought. It was for Darcie, but he knew that she was a bit too young to fully understand that it was for her birthday. So while it would be gifted for that day, he knew that really it was for all three of them.

He didn't know if Millie had discovered it yet, but Keiran actually doubted it. Half the time he said he was going to work, he instead snuck Peter into the house and got his help with things. It was pretty much done, now, though he knew he was supposed to put a card or something with it. Perhaps he would do some variant of that. He just hoped that Millie wouldn't be too irritated with him because of it. He had never been any good at gifts until the children were around. Some part of him had grown after all of his initial failures. He had become more observant of all of them, content now to spend those lazy days that Millie liked so well.

"What?" He asked sharply, looking up from his and Darcie's lunchtime. "I'm being good and everything."

Knowing that it was said in jest and in some sort of hindsight on Millie's part, he didn't push or complain further. Instead, he shot her a glare that he clearly didn't mean, offering Darcie another nibble as he watched her out of the corner of his eye. He shook his head and as soon as he turned back to take a bite of his own sandwich, Darcie's hand reached out and he was greeted by a bit of grilled cheese directly in front of his nose. He lifted his sandwich to meet hers, then bit off some of it. Darcie made to grab at it and he laughed, shaking his head.

"I don't think so, baby," he told her through his smile. She wouldn't have liked any of the spicy bits anyway, and a whole lot of things were too strong for her, yet. So he gestured with the cheese bite again, and she took it into her mouth though she looked a bit reluctant about it. Surely whatever papa was eating was better than just cheese!

Keiran looked over again, seeking out his wife so he could give her a pointed, questioning look. Have I fixed it?