So kind of a crazy AU idea I'm trying where Fiske adopts Amy and Dan instead of Grace convincing Beatrice to adopt them.
They fought their way down the stairs. Daddy was in the study, throwing books on the floor."Get the children out!" he shouted.
"Daddy!" she screamed. She held out her arms and he stopped for a second.
"Angel," he said, "go with Mommy."
"No!" She sobbed as her mother pulled her away. "No! Daddy!"
Amy and Dan Cahill had been at the orphanage for a month when he found out. The man sighed, rereading the headline in the paper: Two Dead in Boston Fire. Hope Cahill and Arthur Trent. Madrigals. Probably the most active members of the branch. Gray eyebrows scrunching into a glare, he read more of the paper's front page:
One witness had recalled an argument between four people in the house, two being the victims, the other two unknown. Officers and firefighters have reasons to believe that one of the victims' guests had set the fire…
The paper went on about how the guests had made it out of the fire alive, that they tried to help get the victims out, to which they refused. The man could practically hear his eyes rolling. Hope and Arthur were victims, that's true for sure. But not the victims of the fire, oh no. They were victims of other Cahills. Probably Lucians. The man felt his heart sink as he read on to where the children had been put up for adoption under Social Services in Boston.
"William." The man said dryly to his sister's lawyer
"Yes, sir?"
"Book a flight to Boston. For tomorrow. Early."
"Are you going to see Madame Cahill?" the lawyer asked. "Yes and no." he hesitated before adding "I'm going to adopt those kids."
"Sir! You barley have enough space for yourself, mostly because you're constantly moving-"
"I'll settle somewhere, then. My sister's mansion in Attleboro, perhaps."
"Very well, then." The lawyer made a quick phone call, when he hung up he turned back to the man in black "Your flight is booked for six am, sharp."
"Good. Thank you."
The next morning Fiske Cahill woke up at four to get himself ready. He knew the airport was probably going to be packed, even if there was no vacation. Fiske reached for the phone on the counter in the kitchen of the small house he was staying in to call the only number he knew.
The dialing ring finally stopped. "Hello?" the voice on the other line said sleepily
"Grace-" his sister cut him off
"Fiske! Do you know how late it is?"
"I am aware, I just need your help."
"Go on."
"Where exactly is Social Services?"
Grace went silent, and Fiske almost thought she hung up before she spoke "I've already talked to Beatrice about Amy and Dan." Her voice was quiet, she was never expecting her brother to consider the two children.
"Well, reconsider. They aren't staying with Beatrice the Bloody." He snapped
"Now, now. Don't be mean, Fiske."
"Grace, please. The papers even say the fire was an accident! It was pure murder! Cahill murder! I can keep them away from it, the whole family situation! They'll never need a reason to know about the 39 Clues. They can be Outcasts, like me…"
"Fiske-"
"I already had William book me a flight for today." He interrupted "For Boston. Those children are not staying with Beatrice and that's final."
Grace sighed "Well then, if there's no changing your mind, would you care to tell me what airport you're at? I could pick you up."
"Boston Logan International Airport. It's a six-hour flight, I'll be there by noon or later."
"You sure you want to go through with this? I've seen how you react around kids."
"I'll be fine, Grace. I'll learn on the way."
"Okay, then. I'll be waiting for you. Goodbye, Fiske." They hung up after Fiske gave a hurried reply. It was now four-thirty and it would take him at least a half an hour to go through security. He cursed when he realized he could be late.
"William! We need to get going, now!"
"Right this way, sir. I had a feeling that something like this would happen, so I called a taxi." Fiske smiled "Thank you, William."
"Where to?" the cab driver asked "Airport, please. And fast. I don't like to be late."
The airport wasn't as packed as Fiske thought it would be. Sure, there were your typical lines of security, but they didn't seem too busy. He put his suitcase on the baggage check assembly line and casually strolled over to security.
"Not much action today, huh?" Fiske asked the man searching him
"This is the usual "action" we see, not many people can afford to travel."
After what he decided was an awkward conversation with the security guard, he was now slinking through rows of seats, half observing the people on the flight until he found his seat by the window, C-39. Any normal person would've thought nothing of it, but Fiske smirked to himself. Oh, irony.
He decided he could use some more sleep after the plane took off, so he leaned on the window and drifted off. Don't worry, Amy and Dan, I'm on my way... While he was at peace with himself, William sat next to him, thinking in agony at how bored he was. How can he sleep through this? This is even more painful than the flight to Poland! Now we're going back? I sure hope Mr. Cahill realizes that I cannot join him on every flight…
There was a slight bump, waking Fiske up and alerting McIntyre. The flight attendant reached for the phone that was hooked up to the speakers for emergency alerts from the pilot. "We're sorry about the turbulence, it appears there is a storm on it's way. Please don't panic, Boston is an hour away." The constant bumps and shakes of the plane were enough to make Fiske feel sick.
"Sir?" McIntyre began nervously "You're awfully pale, are you-"
"Excuse me, please, William. I would prefer to not throw up in my seat." Fiske was thrown forward as the plane lurched towards the left "Or yours." He quickly covered his mouth and forced himself to swallow. "Ugh."
"I didn't know Cahills were airsick."
"I'm not airsick, it's just the turbulence. If I was airsick, I would've been throwing up this whole time."
"Point taken. We should be in Boston in a half an hour, so please hurry." Fiske disappeared
This is somehow more exciting than the trip to Poland. Even though Mr. Cahill's stomach is upset. McIntyre thought as the plane landed and the flight attendant's perky voice filled the plane once again.
"We're sorry about the issues during the flight and thank you for flying with LIA. We hope you enjoy your visit." The speaker crackled and shut off.
"Never again," Fiske moaned and reached for the hatch to the cargo hold and get his suitcase "I hope Grace is waiting for us."