The Shepherd family is back. Fluffy fluff with Little Miss Aurora Shepherd. . . .

Unicorns, Drama Queen and Fairy Dust

She was just about to pour herself another much needed cup of coffee when it appears as though a heap of blankets had just suddenly grown legs.

This cannot be how the world is going to end.

The walking blankets?

Slowly putting down the kettle, she spies familiar tiny feet as she leans against the kitchen island; the feet advances soundlessly on the carpeted floor, its owner barely visible behind the entanglement of fabrics and she smiles to herself.

"Aurora," she says slowly, "What's going on, baby? Are you moving to a different room?" Addison catches up to her four-year-old daughter's pitter-pattering as she continues on marching decisively down the hallway.

"No," Aurora responds, careful to take a peek at her mother without falling, "This is for Papa because he is sick."

Addison's lips presses lightly together in discontent, a brow raises on reflex, but she says nothing.

Nothing at all.

Derek has indeed fallen prey to the bacteria that was tormenting their daughter just a few days ago - yes, but it is nowhere as serious as he wants everyone to believe and nothing an Aspirin cannot fix instantly. However, he had called their Chief this morning informing him that he'll be taking a sick leave today - oh, but, she guess it is for the best, he does have a cough (barely, she's only heard him when she walks by or into their bedroom) and a runny nose (it sounds so very forced), she wouldn't want those with already-compromised-immunity to get any worse because she would like her husband to help around the house, instead of being a big baby.

She's got two babies now - one regular and the other a drama queen.

"You should at least keep one for your nap," she chose to say instead.

"No, Papa needs them all," her daughter insists, already so resolute beyond her age. The Headmaster at her preschool had even said so himself at the last parent-teacher conference, called her highly intelligent and she, in return, had, perhaps very unnecessarily, yelled at him. But then again, he had basically and jokingly implied that her daughter wasn't "normal, like the other children" as he put so eloquently.

She still doesn't understand how it got to her towering over Headmaster Gillies as she completely blew up at him.

Her daughter is highly intelligent. Her daughter is talented. Her daughter is special and gifted, but that doesn't automatically mean that she has to be outcasted and boxed into "not normal".

She doesn't get it.

Mama, you just yelled at Headmaster Gillies.

I'm sorry, honey, but he was very rude ... and ... condescending.

Yeah. He doesn't like me very much.

When her daughter said those words, it broke her heart to pieces. How can anyone not like her daughter? How? All she wanted to do then was storm back into that office and show that tweed idiot what wrath really is.

She didn't, though.

"I'm sure he doesn't need all of them, honey," Addison's hand reaches to take some of the bundle in order to take off the load from her daughter before she happens to topple over because of it's overbearing size.

"Let Mama help you."

It was hard enough to watch her be sick with a cold for the past week. She doesn't want anything else grievous to befall her; she had and she would do anything and everything she can to try and keep her from becoming ill or feeling pain. But, sometimes, it is inevitable, something she has no control over, which really is unfair because it's devastating to watch Aurora's usually happy and energetic disposition turn into what can only be described as a zombie baby. While the snuggles may be nice, she would gladly trade her calm and quiet and lethargic demeanour for her usual mischievous behaviour if it meant she'd feel better.

"No," her daughter's arms wrap around the blankets with fierce protectiveness. It is striking for her to see the resemblance of her own determination reflected in her daughter's ocean blue eyes, her father's.

With a huff, she compiles with Aurora's orders. There is nothing left for her to do but follow the tiny toddler, walking beside her and watching her closely, ready to catch her if needed, as she continues to make her way down the corridor.

Luckily, no accidents occurred, and they arrive at their destination safely. She raps at the door at Aurora's instruction before stepping over the threshold of the bedroom.

*cough, cough*

*sniff, sniff*

She rolls her eyes at her husband's relentlessness.

They find Derek lying in bed, looking appropriately weak and miserable, but Addison can see an evident spark of excitement illuminating his eyes when he sees them both entering the room.

Arms crossed, she remains standing at the doorway as their daughter marches on, guided by the clear purpose of her mission.

"Hey, lovebug," Derek sits up at once as she approaches the bed, and Addison raises a sceptical eyebrow at this sudden outburst of energy.

"What's all this?"

Aurora places all the blankets on the bed and then scrambles to follow their suit.

"For you, Papa."

Smiling, Derek leans forward, lifts her up and sets her down next to him, kissing her head. He seems to have made a rapid recovery, the previous look of grave malady now gone completely, but she says nothing, nothing at all, still observing the scene before her from her spot by the door.

Their daughter wastes no time in getting to the point of her visit and begins to explain the properties and functions of the various blankets. Apparently, the best one for when you are feeling sick, and are in need of a rest, is the pink one with the explosion of unicorns, which Auntie Amelia had gifted her for Christmas. She proceeds to spread the blanket over Derek's chest, and he lies down compliantly, allowing her to wrap him up in the fabric.

She uncrosses her arms and an instant smile blossoms against her lips, her heart swelling with delight as Aurora continues to ensure Derek is comfortable and warm.

"Are you cold, Papa?"

"No, love, I'm feeling quite warm and cozy."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Aurora. Thank you very much for the blankets. I see you're the only one who cares about Papa." Derek says with a sly smile, throwing a wink at her as she scoffs silently.

"Mama cares too."

Finally, feeling satisfied with her work, their daughter moves from her spot on the bed and climbs back down, but not without giving her father a big kiss.

"We should make tea for Papa," she walks back to her at the door and stands in front of her, "To make Papa feel much better."

Addison smiles gently at her, taken by her unfaltering care.

"Papa is feeling fine, chèrie," she tries to reassure her, tucking her hair behind her ear, but Aurora's eyes turns wide instead, crestfallen that she will be unable to help her father.

Shit.

The dejection in her eyes is so much like Derek's and she thinks it will never cease to amaze her how she's able to see them both echoing within their daughter.

"Alright, honey, tea it is," she concedes and bends down, extending her arms towards Aurora who wraps hers around her neck instantly while she lifts her.

"And toast too," Aurora's disposition becomes cheerful once again, "With butter and jam," she cuddles to Addison, continuing to list things they need to prepare for Derek's 'recovery'.

As they set to leave the room, she can sense Derek's wide smirk imprinting on her back. She turns her head back and gives him a stern look, but he merely continues to smile, his hands moving to straighten the pink blankie covering his torso, ever the perfect patient.

Whoever said doctors makes the worst patients?

"We should find a pretty cup for Papa's tea," she turns her face to her daughter who exclaims happily in agreement, "Something to match the unicorns. Maybe the pink one ... with all the glitter," her eyes glances back at Derek once more, now smiling smugly back at him, "He seems to really enjoy unicorns, no?"

/

Thank you all so much for reading. Hope you enjoyed. This was a really fun and short piece to write. Please leave a review and let me know what you think. :)