A/N: I've been having writer's block and I'm moving in less than a week… it's been pretty hectic. This is just a little something I wrote to distract myself from packing and boredom.
They were my family. I used to have a family. Father, mother, brother, sisters. Not to mention aunts, uncles, and cousins. My family was catholic; everyone had plenty of kids. But, looking back, the pictures held forced smiles and painful memories. Sometimes one of my sisters would have a black eye. Sometimes my brother stood apart from everyone else. And sometimes my dad wasn't even there.
But, I thought as I looked at the picture I held, this was different. They were all happy. I could tell from the body language that everyone cared about one another. Not like the pictures of my other (former) family.
I put the picture down (the nice, happy picture) and opened my drawer. I pulled out a small stack of older photographs. One was of the time I had first met her. The woman I now loved. Sophie. We had been a lot younger then. She was maybe 25 in the picture, arm in arm with a rich man she was conning. I gently touched the picture. She used to be Catherine in that picture. I stared at it for a moment longer before moving it to the back of the stack.
The next was a picture of my second in command (he was the one I could trust to watch my family. I knew that he would never lead them into danger). Eliot. His hair had been long back then. It brushed past his shoulders, almost making him look… feminine even though he was anything but. It had been given to me when I first tracked him down. He was walking down a road, glaring at the camera. I smiled slightly. He was always fiercely protective of everything.
I moved it to the back, looking at the next picture with a grin. It was my geek's picture. Hardison. His first mug shot. He had been maybe fifteen or sixteen at the time. The police had kept him long enough for a mug shot and finger prints before he got out. Behind it was another picture of him. He was older, maybe 21, and he was holding the hand of a girl dressed in a slinky dress. He was laughing and joking with the girl, who remained frozen in a giggle. I sighed contentedly. He was still a geek. Always would be. I switched to the next picture and felt my heart clench for a moment.
The girl was about seven years old, clutching a familiar beige bunny tightly. It was her first day with her foster family and they had taken a picture of her. It had taken me two years to find this picture (for my sake as well as hers). Her broken expression made me want to leave the room and hug her despite her annoyance at touching. I flipped to the next picture and she looked at me, grinning. She was waving to the camera and she was about 18 years old. Parker. This was the first picture they had given me of her, telling me to track her down. I put that picture at the back, coming across another fond memory.
She stood there, blowing me a kiss. I had taken the photo as she waved at me from across a rooftop, diamonds clutched in her hands. It was one of the many times she had outwitted me. Sometimes I wondered if I had simply let her escape that day. I could've chased her down, arresting Catherine or Jenny or Sarah (I couldn't remember which she had been on that particular day). The picture always made me smile and it didn't fail me this time. I grinned at her, completely in love.
I switched to the next picture, my grin fading into a protective frown. Hardison had his arm around Parker, her head lying on his shoulder. The glint of her ring was apparent from the small photo (he had stolen it for her even though he could afford it. He said that it meant more that way). I still didn't like the fact that he was dating her, let alone engaged. She was too fragile, too… childlike. But, he always treated her with the utmost respect. So there was nothing I could say about it.
I flipped to the next picture in the stack, my smile returning. Sophie and I were there, posing for a cover story. I had discreetly asked Hardison for a copy of it. She wore a long, clingy, red dress and I wore a sharp black suit. We looked every part the husband and wife we were playing.
The next picture had Eliot and Hardison, Eliot in the middle of flipping Hardison over his shoulder. I grinned widely. The surveillance cameras in my apartment had captured that moment when Hardison announced that he was going to ask Parker to marry him (she had been out getting more cereal at the time). It was a sweet picture, really. Eliot was just informing Hardison of the pain that would come if he ever, ever hurt Parker.
I sighed as I looked at the next picture. Sam. He was about six in that picture. I was behind him, laughing. I quickly switched to the next picture, not wanting to stir up the pain that lingered.
The next picture was one of me walking Parker down the aisle. She wore a white dress and an excited smile. I held her arm, beaming with pride as we walked. The next few pictures were from their wedding. Sophie was the maid of honor, Eliot the best man. And me, well, I was the father of the bride.
I grinned happily as I flipped to the next picture. Sophie and I, a real picture of us, were sitting on a park bench. We weren't looking at the camera (I think Hardison snapped that picture) and we were gazing at each other. A truly happy moment had been captured on film.
I looked at the next picture, the first one after we had gotten engaged, and I felt my heart fill with happiness. We were the last to get together (Eliot was getting married a month after our engagement and Parker and Hardison had been married for a few months). Our wedding photos made me long for that day once again. She was in a stunning dress, her arm in Eliot's as he led her down the aisle. Hardison stood next to me, grinning at his own wife who was maid of honor. She was about four months pregnant in the pictures but Sophie had chosen a dress to hide her baby bump so that Parker would feel more comfortable.
I was about to look at the next picture when I heard the sound of little feet outside my door. A moment of quiet scraping and the door swung open. "Uncle Nate!" Parker's daughter cried (she's Parker's clone in almost every way. Enthusiastic blue eyes, crazy smile, and affinity for cereal. Not to mention her skills as a thief.). She launched her three year old frame at me, hugging me tightly. "He's being mean," she told me with a pout.
Behind her was Eliot's four year old son, sticking his tongue out at the little girl. "Now, now, sweetheart. I'm sure he didn't mean it," I attempted to reason.
"We never do anything wrong, Uncle Nate," Hardison's son said with a sly smile (this boy had learned too much from Sophie. He was a grifter and a geek at only age eight). He picked up Eliot's son, whispering conspiratorially in the younger boy's ears.
"Whatcha doin?" the little girl in my lap asked.
"Just… reminiscing," I answered a little wistfully.
"When are Sophie and the baby coming home?" Parker asked from the doorway, her youngest child, another girl, in her arms.
"They'll be home tomorrow," I said with pride. "Is her cold gone?"
"Yeah, she's all better now," she answered, grinning down at her baby. The baby was about five months old now and already jumping off buildings with Parker.
I picked up the girl in my lap and carried her out of my office. Parker followed me out and she put the baby in the playpen, gracefully separating her son from Eliot's with a smooth motion. I dodged a doll, a laptop, and Eliot's other child as I placed the girl on the couch. I gave my daughter an affectionate kiss on the head and moved back to the office.
I picked up the picture frame that sat on my desk, grinning. Parker and Hardison stood on the left, their son and eldest daughter in their arms. Next to them were Sophie and me, holding our daughter between us. Eliot and his wife had his two sons standing in front of them. A family photo.
And everyone was happy.
A/N: It kinda just wrote itself… I didn't really have a plan while I wrote this. It just happened. Please review and tell me what you think.