bitten_notshy | Jack's Room, Early Sunday, Notting Hill, London

Well, Carl was more or less settled by now. He'd found a roommate and a club to go to, and Sebastien had quietly made sure no one asked too many questions there weren't good answers for. So Jack had to be satisfied that entire mess was more or less taken care of, or as much as it would be.

But besides doing some legwork for Sebastien in finding a place for Carl, he'd disappeared into his own life. He sent flowers to Emma for the holiday, but had made no special effort to call or visit or deal with anything related to Fandom otherwise. Every so often, he just needed a break from all of it.

Besides, there was a boy in one of his history lectures who kept giving him the oddest looks. Almost as if he knew something and was working up the courage to mention it -- but he couldn't, so clearly Jack's paranoia was getting to him.

Said paranoia counted as yet another reason he needed some time off from Fandom.

If the time off was about to come to an end this morning, as he divided his attention between a research paper and a fairly excellent breakfast, he was blissfully unaware of it.

[OOC: NFB. Open for phone calls/texts/random visits.]

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Poor poor Jack. His ~~omg modded!~~ phone was ringing at him cheerfully, from a number that should be quite familiar.

Jack glanced up from the passage about the Normans, and there was a smile in his voice when he picked up the line. He'd been avoiding Fandom drama, but a chat with Emma hardly qualified.

"You liked the roses, then?"

"They're gorgeous, darling," she answered, warmth infusing her voice. "I love them."

"But it seems that roses aren't the only thing that you had delivered to me this weekend..." Emma hit the button to go to speakerphone, and winked at Annika.

"Dad!"

Don't snicker, Emma, it's mean.

Well, that was just mean.

"Hello." Jack's voice went cautious -- not unwelcoming, but surprised. (Some of that was that he wasn't sure if this were the girl from last year, or some new form of torment.) "What? It's the wrong time of year, isn't it?"

"Is there ever a right time of year?" Emma asked dryly. "I'd say I found her wandering about like a waif, but then I'd be fibbing. Annika found me in the coffee shop."

"Annika." Well, that answered one of Jack's questions, and the other would have to be down to the mysteries of the island. "Does she have lots of brothers and sisters again this year? And hello, Annika. I hope you got your mother to buy you something nice."

"I had coffee, and there's a girl who says Mom is her ma mere, but Aunt Karla is her Mama too," Annika supplied. "Do you have that Felix-boy with you?"

"And why aren't you here? Mom says you're in London."

"No," Jack said, more grateful for small mercies than he had any right to be. He'd liked Felix perfectly well, but the child had unsettled him. "No, there's no Felix. Just me and your Tio Sebastien and a pile of schoolwork for university -- which is why I'm in London."

He leaned back in his chair. "Your mother had a child with Aunt Karla? That must be a ... very lucky little girl."

"And with Aunt Sookie," she supplied, and Jack could probably hear Emma groaning 'Annika, don't tell him that,' in the background. "Dahlia has three mommies. She's little, and rude, but a telepath like me."

'Rude' was said quite approvingly.

"How do you end up with three mommies?"

Sorry, Emma. Jack understood two same=-sex parents, but three was stretching his Victorian brain rather thoroughly.

"And of course you're never rude, are you, my girl?"

"We don't know," Emma sighed, pressing a hand to her eyes. "Dahlia has yet to mention a 'Daddy' to me. I'm blaming Karla; it was clearly a cooking experiment with magic gone wrong."

"Of course I'm not rude, Papa," Annika cut-in primly. "I merely provide observations and statements of fact."

"I'm sure it went a little better than most of Karla's cooking experiments," Jack said, trying for the bright side. (Besides, if it had proceeded as per usual for Karla, the child would have had three heads.) "And of course you aren't, Annika. You're just a bit smarter than most people."

She was a Frost and a Priest. That much was simply obvious.

"And I have the best teachers, with you and Mom and Tio Sebastien," Annika replied tranquilly. "Tio Sebastien knows everything, so I want to know it too."

Jack snorted. "Almost everything," he corrected. "I don't let him anywhere near my computer. Has he gotten better about that?"

.. said as if Jack could do more than check email and create a spreadsheet.

"As if you can do more than email and write your papers!" Emma laughed. "Don't fib, Jack."

"But I have to check Sebastien's email for him," Jack said, but he was laughing. "Still. The point stands. He doesn't know quite everything -- but between the three of us, we probably come close, especially if Uncle Hank throws in a science lesson or two."

Edited 2011-02-13 19:38 (UTC)

"And I'm a Priest and a Frost, so I'm naturally going to be smarter than everyone else," Annika agreed. "At least Dad has figured out the DVD player."

"I got that a long time ago!" Jack protested indignantly. "Emma, tell her."

... look, he was still only 19 himself. Total maturity couldn't be expected all the time.

"Your father is perfectly adept at using the DVD player, the coffee maker, and even a stereo," Emma asserted. "I have reason to believe he's figured out online shopping, and for his next trick, might even try to master hooking up his own wireless internet."

See how helpful she was, Jack?

"Did you call just to share your lack of faith in me with dear Annika?" Jack wondered, with along-suffering sigh that suggested he could too work wireless internet, he just hadn't seen a reason to try yet. "Or do you need me to portal out to spend some time with her?"

"Yes," Annika stated immediately. "I like it best when you're both together."

"No," Emma countered, shaking her head at Annika. "You don't need to come out, Jack. We're fine here having a girl's weekend."

Jack sighed, glanced to his book, and tugged on his hair. "I'll come if you're still there on Tuesday," he suggested, by way of compromise. "I'm sorry, Emma, I've a class tomorrow I shouldn't miss and -- will you both be all right?"

"We will be fine, darling," Emma promised, ignoring the pout and arm-crossing from their daughter. "I'll text you Monday."

"And I'll be there when she gets home anyhow," Jack rationalized, feeling guilty about not dropping everything. "We'll talk soon, Don't be too hard on your mother, Annika."

"I won't," Annika sighed, slightly put out that she'd been over-ruled by the adults. "And I'll see you when I get home, Papa, unless I'm still here on Tuesday."

She was going to hold him to that promise.

Jack's Room, Early Sunday, Notting Hill, London

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