Disclaimer: I don't own Animaniacs
Summary: Adopting the Warner's had been a pleasantry, an action expected of him by the world around him, rather than a genuine desire. Either way, genuine or expected, he'd feared Armageddon.
Title: A Lunch Date
Warnings: None. Fluffy? Does fluffy work?
...
Adopting the Warner's had been a pleasantry, an action expected of him by the world around him, rather than a genuine desire. Either way, genuine or expected, he'd feared Armageddon.
The Warner's at his doorsteps, suitcases at their feet, calling him 'dad' and destroying his house. An 'I hate you!' or two and a smack or punch to the face. Or, maybe, dramatic sobbing and thank-yous, with the trio clinging to his ankles to help boost show ratings. Instead...
Nothing. No changes, no suitcases, no crying, no smacking, no anything. The Warner's carried about their business, and he carried about his own. If they happened to cross paths, it wasn't even mentioned. Havoc ensued, but no more than usual. The piece of paper with his signature that he'd suspected to the end of his sanity had instead become just that; a piece of paper with his name neatly written on it in cursive.
"Hey, mind if I join you?" Yakko smiled; a genuine, rather odd to see on his face, smile. Scratchansniff raised an eyebrow- having never been asked if one of them could stay during his lunch hour- and cautiously patted the chair next to him with his free hand (the other, in fact, holding a rather old lunchbox) "Thanks."
"What're you doing here?" He eyed the eldest Warner as he dug around in his pocket. The boy shrugged.
"I'm hungry." Was his simple answer. His face lit up. "Ah-ha! Here it is!" Tugging harshly, he pulled out a rather large, overly-done, submarine sandwich, covered with what looked to be every topping and meat product known to man and cartoon-man alike. He shrugged under the doctors stare. "Just 'cause I don't eat as much as Wakko doesn't mean I don't like the same stuff he eats." And with that, he took a large, sloppy bite of his lunch. Scratchansniff cringed at the lack of manners, turning back to his own lunchbox.
"There has to be more to it than that." He grunted. Yakko shrugged, swallowing.
"Can't I just want to share a peaceful lunch with my p-sychiatrist?"
"No." The boy chuckled, resting a hand and his loosely clothed knee.
"Alright, you caught me. I came by to check up on things- you've been pretty out of it lately. That, and I am really hungry." He took another bite of his sandwich in demonstration.
"Oh." Surprised by the reason behind the newest bit of mayhem, he raised a slightly skeptical eyebrow. "I see. Well, yes, everything is fine."
"Good to hear." He nodded.
"It's just..." He paused, thinking over his words. "I just don't get it."
"Well, life tends to be rather confusing, Scratchy." Yakko nodded in mock seriousness, a smile hiding just beneath the surface. "If you need any help, I'm sure there's a magic eight ball out there somewhere that could help you."
"That's not what I meant!" Yakko laughed, he smile flashing the edges of bright white teeth. "It's just... I expected... mayhem. Disaster. Destruction. Things like that; when I signed those adoption papers."
Yakko snorted. "We do plenty of that as it is, Scratchy."
"But, instead... nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Not even a joke or pun."
Yakko was quiet a moment, taking yet another bite out of his sandwich and swallowing before he finally answered. "The way I see it, Scratchy, it's just a slip of paper. Signing it doesn't make you our dad. Heck-" He chuckled, sounding surprisingly bitter. "They don't even know what it's like to have a dad."
"Me? I remember them. Not much, but I got a fuzzy outline and a couple of memories, and that's plenty. Wakko? He remembers their names. Not their faces or their voices; just their names. And Dot? Heh, she doesn't even have that. They don't know what to expect when it comes to having an adult guardian; so they don't expect anything."
"Oh." He paused, his mind using the silence to churn over the possibilities. In all of his days and visits with the trio, he had yet to hear even the slightest mention of family from the Warner group. The information, while not surprising, was rather unexpected, especially from Yakko.
"Look." He poked him in the chest with a gloved, but surprisingly clean, hand and set the sandwich aside. "You want to get closer to them? Fine. Dot's been drooling over a bracelet for weeks now. It's cheap, it's purple, it's big, you'll know it when you see it. Buy it for her, invite her over for a cheesy romantic movie marathon something like that. Wakko's been dying to see that new comedy movie playing downtown. Take him to that, buy him some dinner afterwards, and be nice, and he'll love you forever."
"Are... Are you suggesting I buy their affections!?" Yakko shook his head.
"Buy? No. Use it as an excuse to get closer to them and earn it? Yes. We're kids, Scratchy, we're not that hard to please."
"I... I see. Why are you telling me this?"
Yakko flopped back in his seat, his smile shifting into a downcast frown. "They need a parent." He admitted. Finished the sub with three, large, bites, he stood and cracked his back. "I got the emotional support and stuff down pat, but, in the end, I'm still just their brother. They need more than that. Take my advice, Scratchy and you'll be fine." Wiping his mouth of any leftovers, he headed towards the door.
"Uh, Yakko?" He paused and turned around. "What about you?"
He paused in thought. "Well... I've always wanted a yiot..."
"Yakko."
"Okay, okay." He chuckled, opening the door. "Look, as long as you're a good stepdad to my sibs and they're happy, I'm a happy guy. Dog. Creature. Whatever." He shrugged. "Anyway, see ya Scratchy. Thanks for lunch."
The door snapped closed. Staring at his hands, two things occurred to him at once.
One; he had a long road ahead of him.
And two; He still hadn't eaten lunch yet.
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