Title: Fishes Out of Water
Author: LM Simpson (Kady the Red Panda)
Pairing(s): Tintin/Haddock
Rating: T?
Warning(s): slash, brief sexual content, language, child abuse,
Disclaimer: I am not associated with Moulinsart.
Other tidbits:
Why am I writing another kid!fic when I'm not done with that Sonic fic of mine? I should really finish that one, you know. It only has, like, two chapters left. Meh, fuck it. Onward we go!

Chapter One: She Slumbers

1111

The little girl whose presence would soon shake Marlinspike Hall's foundations arrived sleeping in the backseat of Thomson and Thompson's car. When the detectives arrived in front of the historic estate Thompson struggled to pick up the child, so tiny yet so heavy in his arms, as his partner fished her worldly possessions—a black plastic suitcase suited for business travel and a dirt-caked blond babydoll—from the automobile's compact trunk.

Thompson, still cradling the girl, stepped back to the front and leaned for his cane, sending the girl's wavy, waist long black hair over her face.

"By Caesar, Thompson!" the other hissed by whisper. "Go any further and the girl will bump her head! Do you want her to wake up again?"

Thompson flashbacked to a time before the girl finally feel asleep and swiftly regained proper posture. He shuddered. "Fine then! You grab my cane!"

Thomson, hands already occupied, at first going by instinct and placing the dirty doll under his armpit, swiftly changed his mind when caked mud cracked off and landed with a "tap" on his shoe.

"Bloody hell! And they were just polished too!" He whined as he grabbed the doll by its hair. He tossed it onto the roof before clutching both canes. They could always drop it off later after giving the toy a good wash, he assumed.

The wait for someone to answer the door was expected. As far as the pair knew, no one was expecting someone to come over that day.

Sure enough, when Nestor finally answered the door after a ten minute wait, the butler's eyes slightly bulged upon spotting the slumbering child.

"Why good day gentlemen," he finally said. "What appears to be going on? Do you need me to summon an ambulance?"

"Why no," Thomson said, "There is no need for an ambulance. The girl is alright. Just sleeping, is all. We are simply dropping her off."

"To be precise: we are dropping her off to her father's residence."

"…Master Haddock never told me he had a daughter," Nestor said.

"Neither did we," Thomson replied, "until we were notified that a wee girl, about eight years old at most, was walking about town on her own to locate the captain's old residence. "

"When we found her we initially didn't believe she could possibly be his until we examined her features closely—I'd show you her nose, for instance—but I'm afraid to wake her up. Her temper, if anything, proves just who her father is."

"Hmm," Nestor emitted, head cocked towards her. "Well then, I'll be sure to inform Master Haddock soon. But first, come with me. Let's prepare her a room in the third floor guest room first."

Nestor knew exactly what the captain and Tintin were doing when he spotted Snowy scratching at a flea outside the elder man's bedroom. He shooed the detectives back into the guest room with fresh bed sheets and pillowcases as he advanced to the hallway's opposite end. Surely Master Haddock, post a brief huff of anger, would understand why he compromised Tintin and his time together.

A rap on the door brought no response. The butler's hearing deteriorated enough that he could no longer hear faint noises anymore, including heavy breathing, but if nothing was going on there would've been an almost immediate answer from either. Nestor knocked three more times, each harder against the wood than the last, before Captain Haddock finally opened the door. His fuchsia anchor print robe sloppily slinked off his shoulders, and his belt's knot was half-heartedly secured.

Haddock adjusted his clothing as he snapped, "Blistering barnacles, Nestor! This has better be important! I was in the middle of something, you know!"

"It is indeed quite important. The detectives would like to see you in the guest room down the hall. Tintin may come if he wishes."

Tintin popped his head behind Haddock's. "What's happening, Nestor?"

"You'll both find out in a moment," Nestor answered as he already began his trek without them. "Though I have to say the news is quite shocking, to say the least of it."

Tintin and Haddock, walking juxtaposed, stared at each other in confusion. Snowy, happy to reunite with his master after a fifteen minute separation, followed behind Tintin with his tail wagging.

Thomson and Thompson tiptoed out of the room before the other men reached their destination.

"She's all yours," Thomson said.

"Let her sleep for as long as need be. She will be quite the ball of energy when she wakes up," Thompson added with a tint of dread.

"'She?'" Haddock said. "Don't tell me it's Castafiore, Nestor! …Is it?"

"If it was Castafiore I would've called a taxi by now," Nestor said.

"We'll visit later in the week," they both said as they reached the stairs. "See you soo—"

Thomson (or was it Thompson?)'s ankle gave out at a step, causing one to crash into the other and have two bumbling detectives bumble down the staircase. Haddock looked down in shock he was sure he shouldn't have, having known the two for a couple of years. Tintin looked down in fright and concern for the two. Nestor's eyes turned towards the door behind them—surely the commotion would've woken even the lightest sleeper up. Snowy "woahed."

Each detective raised an arm up. "We are alright!" They interjected before resuming a run to the front.

Tintin breathed a sigh of relief. "I wonder how they managed to get up just like that, Snowy." He turned towards his dog before realizing something. "Similar to a cat, am I righ—"

He twisted his head right, then left. "Hey, where did everyone—Oh, right… Come on, Snowy!"

Young man and dog entered the still open guest room. The captain leaned over the made up bed. Atop it was a little girl wrapped in a gray blanket. Tintin could see the girl evidently was only in her undergarments, as a dirty navy pinafore and a short sleeved cream Peter Pan collared shirt lay scattered by the room's hamper. Tintin scooped the garments into their proper place before squatting by his friend and lover.

"Captain, what is—Captain?"

Haddock's mouth was open. Not all the way down, but open enough to make it obvious. He forwarded a calloused hand towards the girl, whose hair obscured most of her face. The hand unsteadily shook before finally pulling a handful of hair away from her face and back against her neck. The girl's face, while not completely like his, reminded Tintin of someone. And evidently it brought on the same idea for the captain.

"Captain—"

"Blistering-!..."