A/N: Greetings! I'd just like to thank everyone whose been reading these stories, especially those who have reviewed or followed! I get so excited when there's an email from fanfiction in my inbox! Cliara Aedai and I are having such a good time writing these one-shots, and your reviews make it all even better! So thanks heaps!
I thought the idea for this story was sooo cute! And sad too. I hope you guys like it! I had to cut it back heaps, I was way over the word limit! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own the Mentalist :(
Word - 'reset' Word Count - 500
The tall, well built man rolled over in bed, groaning as the alarm clock beeped endlessly. He slammed his hand down on the snooze button, then attempted to reset the alarm. His fingers, clumsy from tiredness, finally managed this task, and he rolled over once again.
He closed his eyes, beginning to relax, when suddenly a call from the next room woke him up completely.
He pulled himself out of bed, making his way into the room.
"Hey Ben," he smiled, arms wide, embracing him into a hug.
"Daddy," he giggled, jumping up from his cot into his father's arms.
Many years earlier, another man lay asleep, and was woken abruptly by his alarm. He too rolled over, hitting the snooze button, and closing his eyes again.
His wife put a hand on his shoulder, and they embraced. They lay like that for a moment, peacefully.
The pitter-patter of little feet made the man turn, and he saw his daughter, blonde ringlets billowing down her shoulder, a cheeky smile spread across her face.
"Daddy!" she cried, jumping up onto the bed with her parents. She huddled between them, comforted by their warmth.
"Hey Charlotte," her mother cooed warmly, kissing her on the cheek softly.
Her tiny arms encircling her mother's neck, and she giggled happily.
"Charlie, you wanna play for a bit before my first client comes?" her dad offered, and she jumped at the opportunity.
Rigsby was sitting cross-legged on the ground, a feat fairly difficult for a man of his size. Together he and Ben built tower after tower using wooden blocks, then laughed hysterically as they tumbled to the ground.
"So what are you going to do with mummy today?" he asked.
"Gonna paint!" Ben cried excitedly, clapping his hands together.
"That sounds like fun," Rigsby told him with a smile, "what are you going to paint?"
"I paint daddy fighting bad guys!"
Sarah appeared at the door, smiling at the two boys playing.
"Rigsby, you better get to work now, you're gonna be late."
"See you tonight little man," Rigsby said reluctantly, ruffling Ben's hair and kissing him on the head.
Charlotte peddled around the wide open house on her little pink tricycle, her dad not far behind, chasing her.
"Daddy's gonna get ya!" he called, and was answered with squeals of joy and mock terror.
The ding of the doorbell rang through the house, and both father and daughter looked disappointed.
"Already?" Charlotte groaned, jumping up from her seat and rushing to her dad, wrapping her arms around him.
"Yes, I'm sorry sweetie," he replied, just as regretful.
"Can we play when they leave?" she asked hopefully.
"Not today, Daddy's doing a TV interview, but definitely tomorrow."
That evening, when the two men returned from work, their seemingly similar lives became incredibly different. One hugged his child, who giggled and squirmed in his arms.
The other held his tight, tears streaming down his face as she lay unbreathing in his arms.