Author's Note: Although Rock's story was going to be next, I couldn't help but write Marlin's first. I married him for my second run-through of AnWL (the first was Gustafa, of course), and seeing him in the kitchen, I was suddenly inspired! Oh, before I forget, "Popa" is what my cousin calls his father, and he looks a lot like Marlin's child. Please enjoy!

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Little Things

"Popa?" a small voice asked, followed by a short tug on the blankets. The older man muttered something under his breath, yet he complied to roll over and open one weary eye. His son gazed up at him, two blue-gray eyes meeting his own, yet the poor boy's nose was noticeably red. He sniffled a bit, wiping his face with the back of his little hand before rubbing it against his blue overalls.

The boy's father grimaced at the action and grudgingly sat upright to get a good look at his son. "Where's Mum, Allen?" he asked, trying to run his fingers through his mess of tight, black curls, before he shivered as his bare arms and chest were met by the winter's chill. Why couldn't they have bought a heater for the damn place? Their stove could barely heat the kitchen, let alone the family room where their beds were, which was probably the reason for the child's frequent colds.

At least, that's what Marlin hoped anyway. He would hate to see his clinging illness was a genetic condition although he wasn't feeling too bad these days. Maybe Dr. Hardy had been right to tell him to move to the valley with its clean, fresh air since he felt better here than in the city. Living there had been nothing short of a waking nightmare. Every night he'd go to the factories for the third shift, from midnight until dawn, and he'd sleep the day away when he got home. That routine was far removed from the one he kept to on the farm.

"Muma went to get Docdur Ardy," Allen replied matter-of-factly.

"Oh." So what did the woman expect him to do now? She might've gotten the boy dressed in his green sweater and overalls with his matching hat, but she probably hadn't fixed breakfast yet. Her husband hoped that, at the very least, she had taken care of the livestock. He could handle the crops, especially hybrids, but he wasn't very skilled with animals. He didn't have to worry, though. If Jill wasn't on the farm, which was rare, Takakura took care of them himself. After all, the man was a good rancher... as well as an ever better drinking buddy.

"I'm hungry, Popa..." the child whined, tugging on the blanket once again. He really looked miserable that morning, and he was unusually clingy. Normally, Marlin's boy would entertain himself for hours in the barn or the chicken coop although the hens certainly didn't approve of him handling their chicks. There was no doubt in his father's eyes that the kid had great makings for taking over the property one day. The boy's mother was also keen to agree on that point, and she often showed him seeds and other farming essentials as well as taught him how to perform the various chores.

"Alright," the man grumbled, throwing his legs over the edge of the large bed, "let's get you something to eat, buddy." After all, even young farmers-in-training have to eat, not to mention professionals.

--

Marlin hadn't bothered to get dressed just yet since it was only five in the morning. For the most part, he would get up around six, but his wife almost always woke their son up around four when she went out to do chores. She got the boy going in the morning, from getting him dressed to fixing him breakfast. Once her husband woke up, she'd be sure to feed him, too, before heading out for the day. Although he'd told her she didn't have to bother worrying about him, she was very determined to do so.

"C'mon, you can be just like Celia! " she'd tell herself in the mirror if she thought he wasn't in the room. Of course it was followed by a reluctant, if not humorous, reply, "...or maybe not."

It really hurt to see Jill compare herself to another young woman. Sure, he had had a crush on the childish farmhand, but that was then and this was now. He distinctly remembered how oblivious Celia had been to his affections, and until the daughter of his old drinking buddy came around, he had come to accept his fate as an eternal bachelor at thirty-two. Who'd want a middle-aged man anyway? That was his opinion of it about it.

Just as he was lost in thought, Marlin felt his son pull on his pajama pants while trying to get his attention. "Chicky?" Allen asked happily, pointing to the egg in the man's hand.

"Nope, not this one," his father explained gently, smiling at how much the boy was catching onto at such a young age.

"No chicky?" the small voice fell to now this.

Marlin couldn't help but chuckle at Allen's disappointment though he knew it was a bit unkind. The child's poor little face was so sad, but at the same time it was rather sweet. He always did look forward to seeing the eggs hatch into baby chicks, and because of this, his mother had to be careful about selling them. Luckily, Allen didn't seem as interested in the grown birds which made it easier to take them to market once they'd reached that point.

"Don't worry about it," he assured him. "That just means it's okay to eat this one."

"Oh!" the boy cheered; no doubt he was happy to know he wasn't eating a baby bird although Marlin wasn't sure if he would understand that concept yet at three. Probably not... he thought to himself, a small smile lingering at idea.

Jill's apron caught his eye, and he went to put it on. He'd seen both her and Celia wear one as they cooked in the kitchen, and he figured there had to be some reason for it. However, a distinct giggle caught his attention while tying it around his waist; he looked to see his son trying to cover his little mouth. "What's so funny?"

"Popa looks like Muma!" Al replied with a squeal, his blue eyes sparkling with glee.

A dash of scarlet made it's way across the man's face in record time, but he soon managed to compose himself. "Am I that pretty?" he teased, trying to act serious, which only made his son giggle more. He even began to laugh openly at his own joke. Soon after the two had begun to enjoy themselves, the boy began to fall into a coughing fit, and the game was over. He tried to soothe the boy by crouching down and rubbing his back until racking gasps stopped. "Are you gonna be okay?" he asked with gentle concern.

"Uh-huh..." the little boy replied quietly before starting again. His father felt helpless watching his son's illness shake his entire body, but there wasn't much he could do for him. The reassuring words and gestures couldn't help him feel better any sooner, yet though it pained the man, he wasn't able to do much else.

"Let's get you into bed, buddy..."

--

While frying up the eggs, Marlin frowned deeply from worry. What could be taking her? he wondered irritably, fluffing the yellow smear by running the spatula across the hot surface of the pan as it snapped and crackled. Dr. Hardy's just around the damn corner... Of course he knew his wife was on her way, yet he didn't like feeling hopeless when it came to his own son. He was devoted to doing his share of the parental duties. From changing diapers in the beginning, to giving their child a bath. That was also why he'd convinced Takakura to teach him how to cook just in case. He could've asked Jill, but he wasn't about to degrade himself in front of her.

No way in hell he was going to have his wife show him how to do anything around the house.

"Here you go, little man," he offered a short time later, bringing his boy his breakfast in bed.

The child propped himself up on his pillow, giddy with excitement at the rare opportunity. "Thanks, Popa!" He took a small bite before making a strange face and looking up at his father.

"What's wrong with it?" Marlin grumbled, his arms crossed over his chest in disgust. Was his cooking not good enough or something?

"It tastes funny," his son complained, hesitant to take another bite as he stared at the yellow fluff on his plate.

"I put milk in it," the father explained coldly. "It makes it taste better if you ask me."

Allen paused on this for a moment, taking a strangely thoughtful bite for a three year old, before he smiled eagerly. "Yup!" he agreed with a giggle. Marlin felt his shoulders relax considerably, relieved to have found he pulled through on his first attempt. It wasn't that he wanted to best Jill in something, but it was still a good feeling. After all, children could be a budding chef's worse critic.

Just as the boy was finishing off his plate, the door swung open much to his and his father's surprise. The unexpected rush of cold air stuck them hard while the winter snow trailed into the room. "Hello, baby, Dr. Hardy is here for your check-up!" a familiar voice called cheerfully into the family's cabin. Her dull brown hair was dusted with white, and she shivered while holding her arms tight to her body to keep away the chill. However, she still managed a smile for her little boy.

Then her violet eyes trailed to Marlin, only to give him a peculiar look.

"What?" her husband snapped, watching as the strange doctor came in. The man was clearly unfazed by the weather as he had stumbled into the home with nothing more than his doctor's coat and his red and white striped boxers. Although his false eye was rather unnerving, his choice of clothing was easily the most noticeably disturbing factor of his appearance.

"Um," she began, trying to stifle a laugh, "why are you wearing my apron?" She gestured to the frilly white fabric over her husband's torso, and he gave her a quizzical stare with one eyebrow raised.

"Huh?" he asked, not realizing he was still wearing the thing until he happened to look down at himself. His face started to visibly warm as he turned a bright shade of crimson, and he hastily untied the sting and pulled it over his unruly black curls. Dr. Hardy remained expressionless, but the middle-aged man was certain the doctor was laughing inside behind his electric eye and silver disc.

"Don't worry, Muma," Allen cried out, refusing to be ignored, "Popa isn't as pretty as you!"

Marlin nearly chocked as both his wife and the doctor let their suppressed laughter loose into the room. He grabbed the empty plate from his son's hands and stormed into the kitchen, completely humiliated although that was more than plain to see. However, after he had thrown the balled up mess of white fabric onto the dining table and threw the dish into the sink, he heard soft footfalls following behind him. At first, he assumed it was his son, but then he felt a gloved hand touch his shoulder.

"What?" he spat, trying to cover for his embarrassment as he had only a few years before. It was how he protected himself from being ridiculed though he knew she wouldn't want to trouble him.

"Oh, come on, silly," Jill teased, wrapping her arms around his waist with her hands resting on his bare chest. "It was cute..." Her face was warm against the middle of his back, and although he didn't want to admit it, he relaxed a bit at her womanly gesture.

"How the hell was I supposed to know you'd be home so soon?" her husband muttered while staring out the kitchen window.

"Dr. Hardy's is just around the corner," she reminded him gently, snuggling closer. "Now... Let's get back to Allen, okay?" Her warmth vanished as she made her way back to the living room where their son shyly hid his face under a blanket with the strange character at his bedside.

"Yeah... He's probably scared," he agreed, walking beside her with his large hand on her narrow shoulder comfortingly.

"Oh, but the doctor's a good man," his wife assured him, her violet eyes filled with hurt.

"I know, but..." Marlin admitted, "I used to be scared of him... as a kid, alright?"

Jill gazed up at her husband, trying not to hurt him by chuckling at the hint of red on his cheeks while he forced himself not to look her in the eye. She leaned into him, and wrapped her arm around his waist comfortingly. He may married and a father now, but he was still the bashful man he had always been. She loved him for it... and so much more...

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Author's Final Note: Okay, I know it's really short, but I couldn't think of how to fluff it up anymore. Besides, Marlin in a frilly apron is too adorable on it's own! X3 Personally, I'd find him pretty for a man... even if some people liken him to an Elvis impersonator...