"Daddy?"

It was early in the morning when Emily Jones normally woke up, and most of the time she did so before Arthur did, but this morning had been different and now she found him face to face with her 'father', who was 'cooking' in the kitchen. She wasn't sure if she'd call it cooking so much as it was staring at the pots and pans and hoping they would light and cook something on their own. When the young girl had entered the kitchen, he had just begun his special form of cooking had had been caught in his failure. Naturally, this would leave the British man very flustered and annoyed with life and he stared down at the small girl with all of this frustration gleaming in his red cheeks and green eyes.

"You look sort of like Christmas, Daddy…" Emily said with a small smile on her face as she walked over towards the stove, grabbed her stool (made out of Arthur's dearest and rarely used volumes), and started to get things ready for Arthur to actually cook. Like a normal human being, not like someone who actually believed he could use magic on the food.

"Christmas? What makes you think I look like Christmas, Emily?" Arthur demanded, staring Emily down as she placed things on the stove carefully. He couldn't help but think she was somewhat cute, somewhat, especially with the way she tried to behave so grown up and adult like with her hair pulled back in a very messy and her chest puffed up like she was really big and important. She behaved very similar to the way Alfred did, but for some reason she was far more soft spoken about it, like a strange cross between Alfred and Matthew. Of course, with his question, she only giggled quietly.

"Because." Such a short reply but Arthur knew that to a child like her it meant the world. Maybe she should actually read the dictionaries she was standing on instead of cooking on them? A better rounded lady was bound to be more accomplished in life, but spending time reading books meant that she'd be gone and he'd actually have to brave cooking. "Did you sleep good, Daddy?"

"Well."

"Huh?"

"It's 'did you sleep well' not 'did you sleep good', Emily." Arthur sighed as he watched the girl begin cooking eggs and humming. "And actually I didn't sleep well at all. I had an awful night, the beds weren't nearly as nice as back home, and the roof was making sounds all night and…" At this point he noticed that she looked like a bug that'd been stepped upon and flinched slightly, "And…erm…"

"We tried to fix it before you came, Daddy…but you know how useless Alfred can be! He was too afraid to go outside because it wasn't sunny and it looked like it was going to rain…so he wouldn't help me!" Emily frowned and looked over her shoulder in the general direction of her sleeping brother's room, trying to look more angered than hurt. She was clearly upset by the fact that her dear daddy hadn't slept well, which made Arthur feel almost a little bit guilty.

"And there was a storm last night…" He finally finished uneasily, "Didn't you hear the thunder as well?"

At this point the girl went very still and Arthur was worried he'd said something wrong once again. She stared down at the eggs she'd been cooking and finally put them on a plate for Arthur. What was even more confusing is that she didn't give herself any, even though she looked hungry. "I-I did. It wasn't t-that big of a d-deal though, Daddy! W-What are you, s-some kind of g-girl?"

"You're the one who's stammering, Emily." Arthur pointed out honestly.

"A-Am not!" Emily frowned deeply, pushing the eggs towards her father before looking out the window. No way she was going to admit she was a scared little baby like her brother! There was no way on earth that she'd ever let Arthur know that she couldn't take care of herself! She was self sufficient, could cook and make money for herself, and was practically a grown up! She couldn't go telling people she was afraid of storms.

"Did you sleep well, Emily?"

"C-Course! L-Like a baby! I s-slept fine!" Emily's face was red from the knowledge that she was lying and she felt as if she would float away from guilt. If Alfred were there, he'd complain about how it wasn't right to lie and how Daddy would be so disappointed in her if he found out that she'd lied to him.

Arthur stared the girl down for a moment before chuckling and watching as she started fumbling to make him tea. It was apparent that she was lying to him and quite contrary to what she thought at the moment, he wasn't disappointed at all. He was actually very visibly amused by the fact that she was trying to hide her anxieties from him when he already knew all about them. "Emily, don't lie to me."

"I'm not!" Emily shouted loudly and jumped when she heard the thud of Alfred falling off his bed, dropping the tea pot squeaking as the shattered remains and the hot tea drenched the floor. Arthur quirked a large eyebrow at her and she flushed brilliantly, "OKAY FINE!"

He flinched at the sheer volume of her voice and rose to her feet, walking around the pool of tea and lifting her easily off her perch of dictionaries. He figured he could mourn their loss later and that right now he had to deal with the flustered girl who had broken one of his best tea pots. It had been a present to her and now it was broken all over the floor. "Calm down, Emily, calm down, it's alright…" Of course, she was crying at this point. Crying was not something that Arthur handled well. "Come on, Emily…don't cry! Everything will be alright!"

"No it won't! I broke your tea pot and ruined the tea and I'm a baby that's scared of storms just like Alfred!" Emily complained rather loudly.

"No, it's alright!" Arthur was almost frantic in his attempts to calm her down; finally he resorted to hugging her so tightly that she wouldn't be able to get breath to cry anymore. He didn't consciously notice that he was squeezing her that hard and it only lasted a second before his grip released and she was calm. "Everyone's afraid of something…"

"R-Really?" Emily looked up at Arthur carefully.

"Of course." Arthur was trying his hardest to be fatherly, thank the lord it was working. He used his napkin to dry off her eyes.

"You wanna know what I'm really scared of, Daddy?" Emily's voice was the kind she used when she was telling a huge secret.

"What?"

"Losing you, Daddy…"

"You too, Emily."