Word Count: 544
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Nathan/Charles, Inge Espoo Skwigelf-Wartooth
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Inge was kumquat_chan (on livejournal)'s idea, though with some persuasion I did get that middle name in there. She's Toki's child by a surrogate mother. (That fic, "The Inexplicable Baby", can be found on the brutalbusiness lj comm under the tag "fic - kumquat_chan", if you're interested, though she's several years older here.)
As for the game Mall Madness... The commercial for it is on youtube, but I don't think there's an explanation for it so much as... excuses. Why, Milton Bradley, why.
Can't Stop The Madness
"Uncle Nathan?"
Nathan blinked his way out of the staring contest he'd been in with the book in his hands and found himself meeting the gaze of a particularly hopeful-looking seven-year-old. "Uh… what?"
"I'm bored." Inge was hanging off the arm of the couch, kicking her feet playfully in the air behind her. "Will you play a game with me?"
"Uh." Well… it wasn't like he was really busy with anything. The story had kind of lost him once all the characters had decided to sit around and talk to each other instead of going out and doing shit. "Okay."
"Promise?"
"Yeah, sure."
It occurred to him about a half a second too late that if she thought he might try to change his mind then the answer probably should have been no. But ever since that time she'd heard Charles wax eloquent on the similarities between a promise and a legally binding contract, she'd gotten really good at… tattling. The last time she'd tattled on him to Toki, he'd given Nathan a black eye.
As soon as he promised, Inge's face lit up. "Yay!" She bounced down and pulled a brightly (but predominantly pink) colored box from behind the couch. "I want to be the red person!"
For a moment, Nathan hoped she was talking about Clue. He prayed it was Clue – prayed to whatever gods might listen that some stupid jackoff had decided to put the game of Clue in a pink box.
But no.
It was fucking Mall Madness.
A lesser man might have merely cried out in horror; Nathan Explosion bellowed.
"!"
Inge, having been conditioned to this sort of thing from a young age, didn't pause in setting up the game until a giant fist landed on the center of the board, smashing the computer to little plasticy bits.
"Hey!" she complained.
… Well, that was one way to solve the problem. Nathan grumbled something under his breath and tried his best to look sorry.
Inge shrugged, luckily not looking very upset at all. "It's okay, I guess. We can just get Uncle Charles to play the computer."
Nathan opened his mouth to protest, then paused. A small grin gradually dawned on his face.
"Yeah. Let's do that." This he had to see.
Ten minutes later, Charles was at a loss to explain how he had been dragged into this. His lover and his "niece" were sitting on either sides of him on the couch, trapping him.
"It's really easy," Inge was explaining. "All you have to do is tell us we can't have any money, or send us to the arcade, or announce clearances and sales."
Charles took a long, deep breath through his nose, trying to keep how ludicrous he thought this all was from showing on his face. He glanced at Nathan out of the corner of his eye and saw that the big man was trying (though obviously not very hard) not to laugh.
With a long-suffering roll of his eyes, Charles scanned through the rules again.
Finally, he looked up, fixed his eyes on a part of the far wall that seemed least likely to judge him for what he was about to do, and said flatly, "There's a clearance at the Sunglasses Boutique."