A/N: Inspired by a Tumblr post by lifeofbrybooks
What is with me and putting Red in all of my titles?
"Really, Peter? I can pick any one I want?"
"Any, Lu," Peter smiled down at Lucy, a few strands of blond hair slipping down his forehead into his eyes. She beamed back up at him with her adorable, gap-toothed smile and turned to look at the rows of pretty dresses that surrounded her and her brother. So many options. Never had she had so many options!
That morning had not started off great, with Lucy and Edmund at the breakfast table quarreling over who should get the last bit of butter on their toast. Susan sat across from them, reading a book, oblivious to the world. Their mother was just beginning to rub her temples, dark bruises under her eyes and tension in her brow, when Peter came into the kitchen with the newspaper.
"Peter, please take Lucy out this afternoon. I've got a lot of work to do today and can't bear to listen to these two arguing anymore!"
"Why doesn't Edmund have to leave?" Lucy grumbled, sitting back and scowling at their mother.
"Alright then. Susan, you take Edmund."
Susan looked up from her book to protest, but dropped it when her mother gave her the look. She was clearly stressed.
"Sure, mum," Peter agreed, sitting down and grabbing some toast. He made a face at Lucy and she giggled.
The siblings set out shortly after, Edmund insisting Susan take him to the park. She agreed, knowing she could continue her book there. Peter took Lucy's hand.
"Lucy and I will be at the shop!" He declared, already making great strides toward it so Lucy had to start running to keep up.
"Why, Peter?" she asked, gripping his hand tightly.
"It's a surprise," he stage-whispered, a glint in his blue eyes. Lucy giggled with excitement.
Now she stood, looking at all the dresses in the young girl's department, all of which were practically glowing in different shades of pink, green, red, and yellow. Her fingers reached out to feel the soft fabric. She had never thought she would own something so nice. It was the hardest thing in the world to pick just one. But then her eyes landed on it. A navy blue, with white polka dots peppered all over it and a Peter Pan collar. The best part, however, was the shiny red buttons lining the bodice of the dress.
"Is that the one, then?" Peter's voice came from behind. Lucy turned and looked up at him. Her eyes were dancing.
"Yes," she breathed. "Yes, please," she added, as an afterthought.
"Why, of course, milady," he replied, mock bowing to her as he took the dress down. Lucy giggled and couldn't help jumping up and down on the balls of her feet with excitement. She had never had a new dress before. All of the dresses she owned were hand-me-downs from Susan.
Peter took the dress to the counter. Lucy stood behind him and looked up at the clerk, who smiled at her behind his mustache. She smiled back shyly.
The clerk told Peter the price. He pulled a handful of coins out of his pocket. Lucy's eyes widened at the amount he began to hand to the clerk.
"Peter," she said softly.
"Yes, Lu?" he said toward her, still counting out the coins.
"That's a lot of money."
The clerk began to put the coins away when Peter finished. He turned to Lucy. "It's not that much, Lucy."
"But…it's not even my birthday or anything."
"What, if I want to buy something for my little sister it has to be a holiday?" Peter crouched down to be eye level with her. His eyes seemed to sparkle at her wide ones looking back at him. "It was my idea to buy you a dress, Lu. So I better see you wear it to church tomorrow." She looked at him for a second to make sure he was being genuine, and then nodded.
"Okay," Lucy said. "I will!" Peter smiled and poked her nose.
"Here you go!" The clerk announced at the counter. Peter turned and took the wrapped package from him. "Thank you, sir. Lucy?"
"Thank you, mister," Lucy said sweetly.
The clerk smiled at her. "Anytime, darlin'."
Peter looked down at his little sister. She looked back at him with a question in her eyes. He laughed. "Okay, come on up." He crouched so she could climb onto his back, and then they were off.
—
"Where is she?"
"Over there. Behind the bins." Carolyn, Lucy's Sunday school teacher, pointed out the large waste containers across the park. Peter thanked her and hurried over there.
It was halfway through the church service when Carolyn came in, finding the Pevensies in a pew halfway down the room and whispering in Peter's ear that Lucy had been crying. Usually she'd be retrieving Mrs. Pevensie, but she had stayed home sick that day, so the children had gone to church alone.
Peter got up and followed Carolyn out, much to the chagrin of many of the churchgoers, who glared at them for the commotion. Carolyn shot them looks of apology as she hurried after Peter outside.
Their little church was situated by a park, which was very convenient when it was nice out and Carolyn wanted to hold Sunday school outside. They had their things set up by a pond, and a group of children sat in a circle in the grass. Lucy was nowhere to be seen.
Peter found her behind the bins where the teacher had indicated. She had her knees pulled up to her chest and tears streaking down her cheeks. When she saw Peter she buried her face in her hands.
"Lucy, what's wrong?" Peter knelt by her, not caring if he got his trousers dirty.
Lucy mumbled something incoherent into her hands.
"I can't hear you with your hands like that, Lu." Peter grasped her wrists gently and pulled them from her face.
Lucy looked at him, her grey eyes wet with large tears. "I lost it," she cried.
"Lost what?"
"The button!" Tears fell faster.
"What button?" Peter inquired, looking very puzzled.
Lucy looked down at the bodice of her new dress. One of the buttons was missing.
"Billy Westbrook was teasing me about my polka dots, so I shoved him. Then he shoved me back and I fell." She wiped the back of her hand across her running nose.
Concern was etched through Peter's eyes.
"When I fell my button came off, and now I can't find it." Lucy started crying harder.
"Lu, it's only a button," Peter consoled gently.
"But you spent a lot of money on this dress for me and I ruined it the first chance I got!"
"Lucy," Peter tried to keep the amusement out of his voice. "It's not a problem, we'll just sew a new button back on."
Lucy sniffed. "Really?"
"Of course." Peter held his arms out, an invitation. Lucy got up and let him gather her up and hold her against him. She knew she was getting too big for this kind of thing, but at this point she didn't care.
Peter walked back to the group. "I'm going to take Lucy to mum," he told Carolyn. She nodded. He started to walk away when a boy broke from the group and ran up to him.
"Wait! I found this." He held up a small object and the sun made it look an even brighter red.
Lucy laughed. "My button!" She dropped from Peter's arms and took it. "Thank you, Billy!"
"Sure, Lucy. Sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to shove you, honest."
"It's alright, Billy. I shoved you first. I'm sorry."
"I really like your dress. The polka dots aren't so bad, really."
Lucy grinned at him, and then turned to take Peter's hand. They left the park together.
—
Lucy tried not to feel too impatient as she bounced on the balls of her feet, looking over at Peter, who was sitting at the kitchen table with her dress laid out in front of him.
"Ouch," he winced and shook his hand out.
"Oh, Peter, are you hurt?" Lucy ran up to him.
"I'm alright, Lucy, I just pricked myself," he laughed. His eyes zeroed back in on the dress, and he pulled the needle through one last time, tying a knot.
"There. Good as new." Peter set the needle aside and turned the dress around to show Lucy its newly completed set of buttons.
"Oh, Peter!" Lucy cried, throwing her arms around him. He laughed.
"Careful, Lu, you don't want to wrinkle your dress!"
Mrs. Pevensie stood by the stove, watching her oldest and youngest and smiling at the way Peter tousled Lucy's hair and Lucy hugged him around his middle so tight it must've been hard to breathe. They both missed their father very much, she knew, as they all did. But she knew they had each other, and somehow that was enough.
A/N: I don't know how British currency works, obviously, or anything about what little girls wore in the 1940s, so don't come at me about any inaccuracies.
I've decided Peter can sew. I will not argue on this.
