Another entry to The MusicalJedi's short story challenge. Check it out at
http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=7701412&page=1, for some
really cool stories, including an evil R2!
The requirements were to:
1. One post (chapter) long.
2. The subject of your story must be either a favorite character portrayed in an unfavorable way or a disliked character portrayed in a favorable way.
= = = = =
His Father's Eyes
= = = = =
"Here is your son."
Four simple words. Not one of them over four letters long. Four simple words that had the power to change his entire life, every aspect, every fragment.
"Here. Hold him," the nurse ordered bluntly, thrusting the child at the enraptured man.
He hesitated. "Isn't he awfully small?"
"Most babies are. Take him."
"Um... maybe I'd better not. I might drop him."
The nurse rolled her eyes, pressed the boy into his arms, arranged his arms into a semi-correct position, and walked away, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like *Men!* under her breath. He didn't even notice, as entranced as he was by the sight of his newborn son.
*He's so small,* the new father reflected again in awe, looking down at the child. The customary number of eyes, ears, noses, limbs, fingers, and toes, thank the Force. Ten fingers, ten toes, each perfectly shaped, each exquisitely formed. *Would you look at those tiny fingernails!*
The baby just gazed up at him, blinking sleepily, nearly stopping his father's heart in the process. *Oh, dear Force, he has his father's eyes.*
"Hello, little one," he whispered tenderly, carefully reaching out to brush his hand across the newborn's head. "I am your father." The child gurgled contentedly and snuggled deeper into his awkward embrace.
At that moment, he knew that he would do anything for this boy. Anything and everything that he could do to keep the child happy, to keep him healthy, and, yes, especially in his line of work, to keep the child alive. There wasn't anything to describe this feeling, the feeling that you would do anything, give everything just to preserve a random bundle of carbon, hydrogen, and nitrogen molecules. No word, no phrase, no sentence could ever even come close.
*Love at first sight,* he thought absently. Not the clichéd love if man and woman, either, but the powerful paternal bond of love between parent and child.
The boy yawned, showing off his toothless gums and small pink tongue. His father felt a small smile inching up his face as he watched the newborn drowsily drift off to sleep again....
He didn't know how long he sat there, just staring at the child in his arms, but it seemed like only a moment or two before the nurse was back. "Give him here," she commanded.
"What for?" he shot back, a definite possessive tone evident in his voice.
The nurse raised an eyebrow. "It's time he had something to eat. Unless, of course, *you* would rather breast-feed him personally, of course?"
He flushed a brilliant shade of scarlet. "Of course not," he replied quickly, giving the sleeping baby back to the nurse. "*Be careful!*" he warned, hand grazing to the weapon at his belt. "Don't you dare drop him!"
She smirked. "Of course not," she replied sarcastically. "Though I could have sworn that it was *you* who had such little confidence in your ability to hold a child what, fifteen minutes ago?"
Feeling decidedly stupid, he nodded his head curtly in a failed attempt to preserve any semblance of dignity. She started to walk away--
"Wait!" She turned back around, obviously impatient.
He felt a huge, stupid grin trying to creep up his face and made no effort to hide it. "He has his father's eyes," he announced proudly.
The nurse raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Of course, Mr. Fett. Clones are generally like that."
The requirements were to:
1. One post (chapter) long.
2. The subject of your story must be either a favorite character portrayed in an unfavorable way or a disliked character portrayed in a favorable way.
= = = = =
His Father's Eyes
= = = = =
"Here is your son."
Four simple words. Not one of them over four letters long. Four simple words that had the power to change his entire life, every aspect, every fragment.
"Here. Hold him," the nurse ordered bluntly, thrusting the child at the enraptured man.
He hesitated. "Isn't he awfully small?"
"Most babies are. Take him."
"Um... maybe I'd better not. I might drop him."
The nurse rolled her eyes, pressed the boy into his arms, arranged his arms into a semi-correct position, and walked away, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like *Men!* under her breath. He didn't even notice, as entranced as he was by the sight of his newborn son.
*He's so small,* the new father reflected again in awe, looking down at the child. The customary number of eyes, ears, noses, limbs, fingers, and toes, thank the Force. Ten fingers, ten toes, each perfectly shaped, each exquisitely formed. *Would you look at those tiny fingernails!*
The baby just gazed up at him, blinking sleepily, nearly stopping his father's heart in the process. *Oh, dear Force, he has his father's eyes.*
"Hello, little one," he whispered tenderly, carefully reaching out to brush his hand across the newborn's head. "I am your father." The child gurgled contentedly and snuggled deeper into his awkward embrace.
At that moment, he knew that he would do anything for this boy. Anything and everything that he could do to keep the child happy, to keep him healthy, and, yes, especially in his line of work, to keep the child alive. There wasn't anything to describe this feeling, the feeling that you would do anything, give everything just to preserve a random bundle of carbon, hydrogen, and nitrogen molecules. No word, no phrase, no sentence could ever even come close.
*Love at first sight,* he thought absently. Not the clichéd love if man and woman, either, but the powerful paternal bond of love between parent and child.
The boy yawned, showing off his toothless gums and small pink tongue. His father felt a small smile inching up his face as he watched the newborn drowsily drift off to sleep again....
He didn't know how long he sat there, just staring at the child in his arms, but it seemed like only a moment or two before the nurse was back. "Give him here," she commanded.
"What for?" he shot back, a definite possessive tone evident in his voice.
The nurse raised an eyebrow. "It's time he had something to eat. Unless, of course, *you* would rather breast-feed him personally, of course?"
He flushed a brilliant shade of scarlet. "Of course not," he replied quickly, giving the sleeping baby back to the nurse. "*Be careful!*" he warned, hand grazing to the weapon at his belt. "Don't you dare drop him!"
She smirked. "Of course not," she replied sarcastically. "Though I could have sworn that it was *you* who had such little confidence in your ability to hold a child what, fifteen minutes ago?"
Feeling decidedly stupid, he nodded his head curtly in a failed attempt to preserve any semblance of dignity. She started to walk away--
"Wait!" She turned back around, obviously impatient.
He felt a huge, stupid grin trying to creep up his face and made no effort to hide it. "He has his father's eyes," he announced proudly.
The nurse raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Of course, Mr. Fett. Clones are generally like that."
