No point at all, this one. Not a single one. I tweeted the start of it not too long ago and decided today it was time to give it an end.
(It's also possible that I have another 1483 of these things started...that I am committed to completing. Some day.)
Blue, but not blue.
A cool autumn afternoon in the place the McNally-Swarek's call home.
(before the twins are a twinkle in Sam's eye)
"Blue!" Noah squeals, this high-pitched noise he's been experimenting with for the past couple of weeks.
(It's possible the kid may have picked it up from Peck now Sam comes to think of it; what with the way the ice-cool blonde splinters...before melting...every time she lays eyes on the little man -
"God, McNally." Sam caught the Peck smirk out of the corner of his eye just three days ago down at the station – the rookies arguing over who'd get to babysit Bella and Noah later that night. "Bet you're relieved both your spawn caught the Swarek genes."
Sam hid his own smile...can't help how beside himself he is that McNally's offspring didn't come out with fair hair and skin).
"That's right, buddy," Sam encourages, his voice full of warmth. "Blue," he agrees, tugging at the waist of the little guy's pants as he folds the boy into a quick hug and kiss on the head. "Like your jeans," he says on top of some dark curls, own voice going the kind of kid-coaxing pitchy he gives Andy hell for.
"Blue jeeeeeaaannnns...babyyyy" Noah mimics, butting his head back against Sam's chin - all the while banging together two blocks he's holding in his chubby hands.
Sam grins, chest puffing out, proud. Both his kids have a good grasp of language for their age. Got other skills too...like these fine motor ones that are currently responsible for building what might be a boat... Albeit one that looks like it's washed ashore on some rocks.
(Sam has been all over this child development caper since the minute they found out about Bella -
He had the little girl playing feed the wastebasket before she could walk.
"You gonna make her wash the truck too?" McNally teased one morning, trying to hide her own joy at the way the baby delighted in dropping objects in the containers Sam pointed to.
"Nah," Sam muttered. "Too much fun watching you getting soapy and wet."
"Sam!" Andy hissed, half a laugh and a sharp elbow to his ribs in there somewhere as well. He could detect the shade of crimson all over her voice, even through the gritted teeth sound. "Not now.."
Sam just gave McNally the training officer eyebrows. Despite her ever-expanding skill set, he highly doubted their 20 month old understood innuendo as yet.
"Ugh." McNally jabbed again, this time with her fist. "You know what I mean.")
It's Andy he hears now, unlocking the front door and hurrying a more grown up Bella in from out of the cold. "Shoes, coat, mittens, and hat. All of 'em off, sweetheart."
(Sam might've heard that out of his own mouth before too).
His daughter sets a cloakroom track record, apparently. In under a minute she's on his back, monkey grip around his neck and kisses on the shell of his ear. "Daddy!" The word comes out breathless and infested with giggles. "Honey, we're home!"
Sam wraps an arm backward and reverse, catches the little girl by the waist and swings her around, real careful to avoid the obstacle that Noah's head and body present.
He wants to get a good look at his daughter's face. That's the intention. He's missed her smile this past couple of hours. (Might've missed her mother's smirk too.)
"Lemme make sure the doc didn't take any parts," he says, two thousand kinds of serious, poking his tongue around inside one of his cheeks to hide the fact he actually does feel some level of concern.
Bella is still stricken with the runny nose and pale skin she left the house with earlier, but at least that lighthouse smile of hers has made a return.
He can practically hear the good-natured McNally eyeroll that's going on behind him as he looks his other girl in the eyes. He's tempted to go get the thermometer and do some other tests (again), truth be known. Make sure for himself.
Only then, he feels the smirk that is a frequent McNally side-dish to this type of situation as she bends down to kiss the top of his head. "She's fine," Andy murmurs, leaving her lips in a spot that Sam likes.
"Fine, huh?" Sam checks; further inspecting Bella by putting a hand on her forehead. He has to do this kind of thing at least once a day, what with his wife never kicking that particular habit. "Fine…" he echoes again, enunciating all letters. He peers suspiciously between his daughter and wife, neck craning to get some eye to eye with McNally. "But is fine good enough?"
"Yep," Bella nods quickly – no doubt a result of her mother having drilled her on the ride home: we don't want daddy to worry. He can hear the damn conversation now. "It's just a cold, daddy," Bella whines, clutching at his shoulder and looking and sounding more and more like McNally with every second that's passed since they got home. "I'll be good as new soon."
"Uh huh," Sam nods slowly, completely unconvinced that the fever his kid was running last night is not related to something more dire than what they're selling to him.
"When soon?" Noah pipes in, banging his blocks together again to demand an answer that Sam needs as well.
(The little guy is already overly-protective of his mom and his sister – doesn't take well to family members not being home when he's expecting, or his mother and sister interacting with strangers, that kind of thing…)
It's Bella's turn to roll her eyes now, the female members of the McNally-Swarek contingent joining forces to make the ones of other sex feel like they're being ridiculous here.
Andy clears her throat and goes for a distraction strategy by picking her son up off the floor. She hugs him tightly. Sam can see the reassurance, even from the awkward angle he's at. "Soon - as in a couple of days," she finally answers – using that soft, maternal voice she's grown. The one that really. Well. It really suits her. "We're gonna keep feeding her daddy's chicken soup."
Sam lets out a quiet breath. McNally's tactics of reassuring Noah are starting to work on him too.
"And I need lemonade," Bella instructs, making sure her mother hasn't forgotten anything the doctor might have prescribed. Now that Sam's not thinking up emergency response for his daughter's illness, he can definitely hear that she is actually sounding healthier than she did yesterday. "You can help make it, Noah," she continues, wrapping her arm around Sam's shoulder again before she goes in for the kill –
Tips her head so it's tucked in the crook of Sam's neck, lets out what might be a not-so-genuine yawn. Sam's not going to argue with whatever she's about to finish on though; her eyelashes are making a compelling case for him to do whatever she wants. "And I'll have to have an extra story tonight," she says around another faux yawn – eyes fully closed by the time it gets done.
Sam rubs a single, comforting stripe all the way down his little girl's back and presses his nose into the top of her head. "Okay, sweetheart," he whispers, already thinking about which of her favourite stories he'll give voice to tonight. He looks up to McNally and Noah, knowing full well he might as well concede defeat to any other requests of him the rest of his family have –
He's greeted by a couple of commiseratory smiles. "If it's any consolation," Andy starts, rocking Noah gently as she winks down at Sam: "We'll just take that extra story as well."