A/N: Missed yesterday because of some work crap and a resulting total lack of sleep (about 7 hours between the last three days, yay!)

I'll make it up to you with some "Tom visits Andy and April in Washington" fic.

Tom was only staying for a few days for a book tour he had around the area, and after he saw the bedlam of the Ludgate-Dwyer house he made sure to get a hotel room. It wasn't so much that the house was a mess, but he'd come over to visit for an hour or so and try to get Andy to help him set up some stuff at the venue (which, even still, he did agree to because he's still the same eagerly helpful Andy Dwyer) and then a kid would fly past him. April would be playing with one of her daughters and she'd ask him if he wanted to hold her and, really, he didn't. There would be toys everywhere that dug into his feet or his shoes, a huge cat nearly attacked him, and the edifices of paper drawn for April and smeared with red handpaint like blood were hanging everywhere.

It was terrifying. Not that he hated kids, but his jacket definitely hated their sticky fingers. Even worse, one of them, was taller than him. How demoralizing was that? To Tom? Being shorter than a thirteen year old girl may as well have been a death sentence.

The other thing that got to him was April. Sitting down with her after a pizza party that he thankfully missed - five kids, Andy, and pizza were involved so you do the math - Tom meant to ask her if she had any tips for his next big idea. Well, the idea for the idea. The name wasn't even invented yet, which as far as Tom's concerned is when the project really gets kicked off. No name? No sale. He picked up a slice of the leftover pizza with two wads of napkins, April shaking her head at him with that same old glare. Old, even. She wasn't old but she was old. Tom could literally call her a grandma at some point, but for now he just remarked that there's gray in her hair and even more in Andy's. He already has an emergency supply of men's hair dye.

"Y'know what I always say," April said, nodding at him.

"Squawk like a bird and paint myself yellow?" Tom said with a raised eyebrow, used to her absolutely ridiculous ideas. That was half the fun of April, those absurd suggestions.

"I think it'd be way cooler than a book," April leaned back in her chair and raised her hands, drawing out a billboard sign with them in the air. "This just in: local man goes insane writing book, becomes Big Bird."

"Yeah, I think I'm gonna give that one a hard pass," Tom told her. April nodded in agreement. "Where's Andy? Maybe he can give me a flash of brilliance for my next book."

"He's putting the kids to bed," she looked over shoulder and peered into the hallway. Turning her head, she listened intently and then nodded as if understanding. "Yep, he's singing them Johnny Karate's Goodnight Hug and Stuff Song."

"Wow," Tom said with a mild chuckle.

"It's really sweet," she shrugged her shoulders.

"So you're... into this sorta thing?" Tom asked and looked around the house. Drawings, report cards, all the usual up on their fridge. A semi-clean kitchen. A house, a family. All of them were things that he just never thought of with regards to April.

"What? Washington?"

"Kids," Tom clarified. Partly, he was wondering why he had told Ron all those years ago about Lucy and kids. Now that he sees all the work (and it is work, and even though April clearly has to put in less work with them than Andy she's still a mother) and care, and money, and how much of his own life would be turned towards them, he doesn't know.

"Oh," April looked taken aback. "I guess Andy really wanted kids and I wanted kids eventually."

"Is that good, though? Like, the eventually part? I heard you and Leslie had a big talk and-"

"Look, I don't wanna go into why I didn't want to do it first, okay?" April deflected him and he knew to back down. Personal reasons. Emotional stuff. That wasn't really a big player in their friendship. "I just wanted to at some point, and it makes Andy so happy and that makes me happy. Why're you asking?"

"I dunno, man. Lucy doesn't want kids either so-"

"So that's that," April shrugged her shoulders again and looked at him like he sprouted an extra head. "Dude, don't have kids. Neither of you want them."

"Yeah, I just... everyone else is having them. I guess I was just curious what the big deal was," Tom pursed his lips. "Andy loves kids."

"Yes he does," April said with a smile. "And he's a great dad, but that's Andy. That's not you, Tom."

"You saying I can't be a good dad?"

"That is exactly what I'm saying," April smirked and he chuckled.

"It changes you, too. Like you. You're different."

"What?"

"I dunno, you're just... more caring? Like, where's the mummies and the zombies and the vampires? I thought you'd give your kids all of that," Tom looked around the kitchen for his claims.

"It's a kitchen Tom. We watch horror movies all the time and when they draw scary stuff I say I like it, and they're happy," she scrunched her nose up. "I'm not different, by the way."

"You totally are!" he fought back.

"Just because I'm more open to my kids than stupid people doesn't mean I'm different," April argued and folded her arms. "I love them, okay? They're my kids, so I'm not gonna be mean to them. God, Tom. What'd you expect? I was going to prank a little kid with thumbtacks and super glue?"

"Man, I still remember that day. Garry couldn't sit down for a week after that."

"Probably because he had a cushion full of tacks glued to his butt," she said with a stifled laugh.

"Honey!" the voice of Andy crept out of the hallway along with the tall, imposing figure. Minus the growing beergut. Well, Tom isn't sure about that. The beergut might just add to the whole white guy intimidation factor and he'll have to figure that out later. "Oh, hey Tom! I didn't know you were sleeping over. Oh my gosh, you gotta see what Robbie-"

"He's not sleeping over, babe," she laughed and Andy's face visibly fell. "We were just talking."

"About what?"

Tom took a look at the two of them. Despite the wear age had taken on them, and honestly it wasn't that much because Andy was still a smooth looking guy for as oafish and unsanitary he used to be, and April barely looked different than when she was in her early twenties. That was partially due to him, though. Tom had practically forced her to take a spa day a long time and ever since, he's told to just get her "one of those gift cards" for her birthday. For all of this, kids and age and life, they weren't that different. They probably were and he just didn't see it anymore, which he tried not to think about because deep, deep, deep down he does miss that old crew just a little bit, but April was busy staring at Andy like he'd just given her a billion dollars and Andy was smiling at her like she had no kids, a stable financial career, and wanted to spend the rest of their lives in Cabo.

Maybe he was projecting a little.

"Just askin' April about how the hell she can keep her skin looking this good after so many kids," he turned the subject and Andy just grinned.

"I think she uses that-"

"Mud from the backyard," April finished for him. That was one thing Tom was never allowed to buy for her. Beauty products were totally off the table because he would probably buy her something with glitter and vinegar, or whatever the hell he had on that day when he was covered in that stuff. That's what April said at least.

He shook his head and stood up. Picking his jacket off of the back of the chair he looks at the two of them once and sighs. "Y'know, some things never change," he said. "Be good, Andy! Treat those kids right."

That was the last time he ever talked to either of them about kids, specifically. Tom wasn't even on the fence anymore, and that was okay. He couldn't likely be happy with them, but at least the Ludgate-Dwyers had their not-exactly-little family and were doing just fine though.