"Daddy? You do love me, right?" Ruby stood in an oversized shirt that went to her knees, feet bare on the linoleum floor of the small apartment's kitchen. Roman set his smouldering cigar on an ashtray as he cracked open the fridge, wincing as the bright light cleaved through the dark.
Of all hours for Ruby to want a damn glass of milk-
"Of course, pumpkin." He replied boredly. Really, need she have asked? This parenting shit was going to drive him insane. Just a little longer until we're out of the pointless questions phase, he told himself.
"Then...why are you committing slow suicide?"
Oh, god.
She was at that age now.
The 'smoking is bad for you', 'you're destroying the environment', age. 'It's bad for the animals', 'second-hand smoke kills'-
Roman sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with exasperation. "I don't know what you're talking about." He lied finally. Maybe, just maybe, he could bluff his way through and she'd drop it.
No such luck, from the indignant pout on her face.
"Daddy smokes so he doesn't get the urge to add 'serial killer' to his vast criminal record, sweetie." He grumbled, unscrewing the cap on the milk. Ruby's eyes went wide and she grabbed her box of Pumpkin Pete's off the counter, hugging it protectively.
"You leave Pumpkin Pete alone!"
He seriously debated whether or not to correct her.
"Then, you leave Daddy's cigars alone. Deal?"
She frowned and stuck out her bottom lip. Oh for fuck's sake, what now-?
"...A lady came to school today and talked about it and how-how smoking is so so bad for you, and-" Her expression wilted significantly, "-her voice was almost all gone since she'd smoked so much, and she said that if you smoke too much, you can even d-die-"
There were several fluids weeping down her face now, and Roman was beginning to understand why she'd been up so late on this particular night.
She'd been left all alone before, already.
He took the cereal box from her arms and set it back on the counter, kneeling to her level and petting her hair awkwardly as she fwumped into his shoulder.
"Dad-dy, you-you smoke every day, what-what's gonna happen if-if your voice is gone and you can't tell me stories anymore, or if you-if you-"
"Oh shush-ush-ush-ush now. Pudding. Come on, Enough of that." He chuckled, drawing back to hold her plump little cheeks in his hands before realizing how wet and smeary and...sticky they were. Ew. He pulled a tissue from the box on the counter and pushed the back of her head until her face was in it. "Blow your nose." She squeezed her eyes shut, cheeks turning blotchy red as she did so. "Daddy's going to die on his own time, and not a moment before. Everybody dies. But I'm not leaving you anytime soon."
Ruby started to cry even harder.
This parenting thing was a real humdinger. Oh, fuck it.
"...How about you take your milk-" He held the glass out to her and pat her on the shoulder, "-to the couch. Daddy will make popcorn and we'll watch TV tonight until you can fall asleep. How about that?"
Ruby's eyes lit up and she hummed all the way to the couch, sipping her milk and sloshing it onto the floor in places here and there as she went. Oh well. It wasn't like they were anywhere for long enough to worry about cleaning up anyway.
"Daddy! You left one of your beers too close to the edge of the table and it fell off and spilled onto my special book!" Ruby's little voice called out from the living room.
"Did I? Well, I'll get you another one." He peeked through the space between the countertops and the cabinets in time to see her setting the bottle back onto the table in a much wiser positioning.
"You'd better not steal it!"
Roman sighed.
Of all the kids in the world, his had to be the one with the conscience.
He supposed she got her heroic attitude from her mother.
"There's cookie crumbs all over the couch, too!" Ruby pouted cutely as she started swinging a pillow at it to beat them from between the creases and crevices. Roman got so distracted watching her bustle around as she cleaned that he realized he forgot something.
Oh, right.
The popcorn.
He tore the cellophane off the package and set it in the microwave to get ready as Ruby pitter-pattered around, tidying the mess he'd made.
"Clean up, clean up, everybody do your share...! Clean up, clean up, everybody everywhere-" She sang little songs to herself as she worked, and in time the pops from the popcorn grew louder and more frequent. Ruby raced over and pushed her head under the forearm Roman had been resting on the counter so she could see. He smirked and squeezed her gently around the neck with his elbow, giving her a noogie with the knuckles on his other hand.
"D-Dad-dy!" She giggled mirthfully and squirmed as he shifted his fingers down to attack her ribcage.
"Careful, you little squirt. Scream like that and social services will be on my ass in-"
"That's a swear." Ruby tried to have a serious face, but he tickled her until she was pink in the cheeks again.
"Words are words, peach. I'll say what I want. Give me a minute, the popcorn's going to burn."
He opened the door of the microwave and took the bag out, shaking it up and down. The sound and the smell drove Ruby nuts.
"I wanna shake it! Please please please!"
"Hold it from the edges here. Be careful." He showed her how to hold it and she gleefully shook the inflated, steaming bag up and down, swirling the butter around inside.
"Popcorn! It's really sweet, fun to make, and fun to eat! Popcorn! It's a really really-really yummy and exciting, zany, kind of treat!" She sang as she bounced up and down.
"Where'd you learn that one?"
"TV."
"I suppose you would have. Let's watch something already."
No sooner had they settled in on the couch with the shared blanket draped across their laps did a news reporter appear on the screen, a picture of Roman Torchwick's mugshot right beside her.
"Daddy look! You're on TV again!" Ruby beamed innocently.
"-a dangerous criminal who is still on the run. Please call the number on-screen if you have any information-"
"What do you say we change the channel." Roman picked up the remote before she could protest.
"I already know you do bad stuff, Daddy. But I'll share my Christmas presents with you even if Santa gives you coal again-ooh!" Her eyes lit up as the bright glow of primary colors filled the screen. Nothing like some cartoons to stem the gentle scoldings about his dubious lifestyle.
They shared the popcorn for a while, and just as Roman was about to ask when it was his turn to choose the channel, he glanced down and found Ruby sound asleep, a sheen of glossy, oily butter staining her lips and fingers.
And his suit.
He almost swore, but he didn't. He wanted to pick her up and tuck her in, but he didn't want to risk waking her.
Instead, Roman tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and bent to give her a quick peck on the cheek.
"Sleep tight, Red."