Okay, for all those who are enjoying the story of Lucas Rory-Snart in 'Follow the Advice, Not the Example', these are going to be one-shots tying into the main story that people can prompt and ask of me ?

Prompts are always welcome!

Please read, review and enjoy ?

….

"Lucas?"

Len frowned when he wandered into his son's room. It was 7:50am, and when Lucas didn't do his usual 'bounce on the bed' routine, he grew a bit concerned.

"Lucas? Where are you?"

"Daddy!"

Startled, Len glanced at the bed to see his son rolling out from under it, wrapped in a bright orange blanket. "What are you doing?"

Lucas beamed up at him, "I don' oh!" There was a brief pause, before he pulled out an action figure of Spiderman… with his arm off. "Fix 'piderman."

Kneeling, Len gently took the toy off his son, "You wanted to fix Spiderman?"

"You fix 'piderman?"

Wincing slightly, Len sighed. "I don't think I can sweetie, but maybe Papa will try."

"What if he no do?"

"…. Where's Houdini, hmmm? Where's your teddy?"

Wriggling around in his blanket, Lucas pulled out his teddy and beamed, crawling out of his warm cocoon. "He cold."

"Poor Houdini. Did you have a nice dream?"

Lucas pushed himself to his feet and toddled over to his Dad, "I didn' dweam 'bout no one."

"You didn't dream about anyone?"

"Noooooo."

Lifting Lucas into his arms and pushing himself to his feet, Len headed towards the kitchen, placing his son on the floor once they got there. "You want some milk?"

"Yeah!"

"Okay, here we go…." Handing his son a blue sippy cup full of milk, Len quickly poured himself a black coffee, "…. What do you want for breakfast?"

"…Chewos!"

"Cheerios?"

"Yeah!"

Minutes later, Len seated his son at the table, and placed his Winnie the Pooh bowl in front of him, complete with Cheerios topped with blueberries. Once he had a bib around him, Lucas eagerly tucked in.

Th bowl was quickly emptied, and within seconds of finishing, Lucas began to whine.

"Out! I want out!"

Grabbing a wipe, Len nodded. "I know, but I need to clean you up first okay."

"No!"

"You don't really get a choice."

Lucas squirmed as Len wiped his face, immediately squirming to the floor when he was done and racing towards the living room, counting each step along the way…. Sort of.

"One, two, three…. One, two, three"

He could only count to three.

Halfway to the living room, Lucas seemed to change his mind, heading towards the stairs.

"Where are you going Lucas?"

"Wakey Papa… wakey Papa!"

Lucas beamed at his Dad through the gaps in the bannister poles, "Wakey Papa!"

"Don't you want to get dressed first?"

Thinking to himself for a few moments, Lucas nodded, clambering up the rest of the stairs and racing into his room. Len followed, smiling as his son wrenched open drawers and rummaged through them, before eventually pulling out an Indiana Jones t-shirt.

"Dis! And ma hat!"

"Do you really want to want to wear the explorer hat?"

"Yeah!"

…

Around ten minutes later, Lucas was rushing towards the master bedroom and clambering on the big bed. "Papa wakey up! Papa wakey up!"

As he jumped up and down, Len resisted the urge to snigger when Mick yelped slightly in shock.

"Look Papa! Me an explorer! Me an explorer!"

"Great…." Grunted Mick, "… any chance you could explore downstairs for another two hours?"

"No! Wakey up Papa!"

"Lenny… please…" begged Mick, "…. I'll do anything if you take him downstairs."

"Anything?"

"Anything… even that thing that you like with your thighs and- "

"- Okay, okay…." Interrupted Len, willing down the flush in his cheeks, "…. How about, you babysit, whilst I rob a bank?"

"You're gonna rob a bank without me?"

Len shrugged, "All the others are…. Indisposed. Someone has to look after Lucas."

There was silence for a few moments, before Mick groaned and pushed himself into a seated position, catching Lucas as he leapt towards him. "Fine… but you owe me."

"Of course." Len strode over and kissed Lucas on his forehead, "I will see you later, okay?"

"Bye bye Daddy!"

…..

"Look, look Papa!" Lucas came running up to him, a mass of purple, red and green playdough all mushed up in his hand, "I made a pwetty flower!"

As Lucas pushed the mush closer, Mick found himself leaning back slightly. "Yeah that's…. real pw- pretty kid."

"On the fwidge?"

"I can't put playdough on the fridge."

Lucas frowned at this, thrusting the mush closer to his Papa, "But- "

"- no." interrupted Mick, "I'm not putting it on the fridge, now what do you want for lunch?"

"Uuuhh, chicken wrap!"

Quickly checking the bread bin, Mick winced. "We don't have any wraps, but we have muffins?"

"No! I wanna wrap!"

"We don't have wraps, we have muffins. Take it or leave it!"

There was a sullen silence for a few moments, before Lucas nodded sulkily. "Okay…."

"Good." Mick sighed, "I'm glad you're happy."

…

After Lucas had stuffed the chicken sandwich and raspberries into his mouth, barely remembering to chew, Mick lifted him out of the seat and the pair sat on the sofa. "Right…" grunted Mick, "… what do you want to watch?"

"Star Wars!"

"No…. pick something else."

Lucas pouted for a second, before shrugging. "Aladdin?"

This Mick was happy to watch…. Because animated films were snooze worthy. As the opening credits began, Lucas turned to his Papa. "Can you fix 'piderman?"

"… Huh?"

Shuffling off the edge of the sofa, the toddler raced upstairs, returning a few minutes later with a Spiderman action figure, with one arm missing.

"Fix 'piderman!"

Mick winced when he saw the separated arm, "Ummmm…. Maybe?"

Lucas didn't seem to sense the uneasiness, simply clapping his hands and leaping onto the sofa, turning his attention back to the film (and singing along to the songs as it went). Whilst his son was distracted, Mick went to go and grab a glue gun.

With all the toys that Lucas would break, often bending action figures into positions that they weren't meant to go in. No matter how many times Len told him that Captain America couldn't do the crab, Lucas just never listened.

Getting a glue gun was the obvious choice.

Time seemed to fly by as Aladdin played and Mick mended the toy… or at least tried to. Grumbling about 'kids and their bloody toys' Mick heard the film come to an end, prompting him to glance over at his son.

Lucas was fast asleep.

Thank God.

Placing the, hopefully, fixed toy on the table, Mick turned the TV over to the news and switched their police scanner on, the boring old news and statements reassuring him that Len was still free and probably coming home.

…

A little over an hour and a half later, Lucas stirred and pushed himself back into a seated position. "Papa! Me hungwy!"

Mick glanced up from where he was tinkering with his heat gun, quickly checking the time. It had gone five and Len still wasn't home yet.

"Papa!"

"Alright. Alright." He grunted, heading into the kitchen and grabbing a bag of pasta and some meatballs from out the fridge. "I'm cooking. I'm cooking."

…

"Aren't you going to eat that pasta?" grunted Mick, watching as Lucas simply pushed the meatballs around the place, with the sauce spilling over the side and onto the table.

"Noooooo."

"Why the hell not?"

"Daddy ain't here!"

Mick winced at this. It had been several hours since Len had left for the bank robbery, and he still hadn't returned.

"Lenny doesn't have to be here for you to eat your tea."

"Wan' Daddy to feed me!"

"You don't need him to feed you, you're a big boy now remember?"

"Wan' Daddy to feed me!"

"Pick up that spoon and eat your pasta!"

"NO!"

"Now!"

"Is there really any need for a shouting match?"

Startled by the other voice, Mick and Lucas twisted around in his seat. Leaning in the doorway, Len smirked as both Mick and Lucas's eyes lit up at the sight of him.

"Daddy!" cried out Lucas, holding out his arms as Len strode forwards, "Daddy!"

Pushing the bowl of pasta closer to his son, Len raised an eyebrow. "What's this is hear about you needing feeding… like a baby?"

There was a tense silence, before Lucas pouted, grabbing his spoon and shovelling pasta into his mouth.

"That's what I thought."

Mick rolled his eyes at this, "Why does he listen to you, but not to me?"

"You're too soft usually. He knows where he stands with me."

"I can be stern!"

"Only when he knows he's really pushed his luck."

Glancing over at his son, Mick was dismayed to see the toddler smirking as he shovelled the pasta into his mouth.

"Fine…."

…..

"I can't believe you…." Muttered Mick as he helped his son wash himself, "… I can be stern, can't I?"

Lucas didn't seem to be paying attention, focusing on his toy shark as he hummed one of the songs from Aladdin.

"Hey…." Mick gently splashed water on his son, smirking as the boy scowled at him, "… I can be stern, can't I?"

As water shot out from the toy shark, straight into his face, Mick growled. "Right… that's it."

Squealing, Lucas giggled and laughed as his Papa lifted him out of the bath, turning away as the child get changed into his pyjamas, before lifting Lucas up again and striding to his son's bedroom. Ignoring how the toddler wriggled, Mick dropped him on the bed and crossed his arms.

"Right…" he muttered, "… this is me being stern. Because you squirted water into my face, you don't get any free time before bed. No playing. No stories. Nothing."

There was a brief moment of silence, before Lucas's face scrunched up and he burst into tears.

"No." Mick remained firm, "You squirted water in my face and that is not okay."

"Is that really your best 'stern' voice?"

Mick rolled his eyes as Len entered the room, "Lenny please, I'm trying- "

"- to make him cry?"

"He's only crying to try and get out of his punishment!"

Len nodded, "Oh, I agree…" he then turned his attention to his sobbing son (who was giving his best puppy dog eyes to his Dad) , "… don't give me that. You squirted water at your Papa, which wasn't nice. What if the water got in his eyes? It would have hurt, and you would've felt bad."

Pouting Lucas crossed his arms and threw himself back against the bed, glaring up at the ceiling. "Wan' stowy…" he muttered petulantly, "… please?"

Len and Mick glanced at each other, with Mick shaking his head.

"No…" he mouthed, "… no."

Without taking his eyes off Mick, Len smirked. "You have two choices Lucas… either you can have a story now and go to bed early with no playtime…. Or you can have playtime with no story. Which one will it be?"

Lucas was clearly thought very hard about his decision, before he sighed. "Stowy please."

"Very well." Encouraging his son to back up and let himself being tucked into bed, Len seated himself on the edge of the bed, "Which story would you like?"

"Hercules!"

"Hercules, it is."

Len went over to the bookshelf to grab the book as Mick settled down in the chair next to the bed. Once Len returned, he seated himself on the edge and frowned. "Before we start, what should you say to Papa?"

"Sowy Papa!" Lucas quickly apologised, reaching over to give Mick a hug before settling back down, "Stowy now?"

"Story now."