"Toy Guns." Rated G.
Title: Toy Guns
Fandom: Firefly
Story 'Verse: String Theory
Character(s)/Pairing: Malcolm Reynolds, OCs (Mike Cobb, Peter Tam, Merrilynn Tam, Mallory Serra-Reynolds)
Prompt: Writer's Choice (Kids) from my 10_ocs claim
Word Count: 928
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Toy Guns
There was a reason Malcolm Reynolds had not wanted a big, family boat. They were smugglers. They committed crimes. It just wasn’t safe for kids on board. But had anyone listened to him? Did any of his crew ever listen to him?
No.
He’d been lenient with Zoë. She’d just lost her husband and her pregnancy after was the one thing that really got her through it; so he hadn’t complained. Even when Bonny had spit up on him, nearly gotten kidnapped when he was baby-sitting, and cried every time he got near her, he hadn’t said a word. Not a single, gorram word. And he’d wanted to.
But then Kaylee had convinced Simon that they needed to start a family. That hadn’t sat at all well with Mal, and he’d done all he could to convince her that they’d all be happier without a squalling little bundle of joy, but she’d had her heart set and telling Kaylee no when she was that determined was like kicking a puppy. Mal did not approve of the kicking of puppies.
So Merriweather Lynn was born, a pudgy, pink seven pounds, five ounces. And she was just as sweet-tempered as her mother, and smart as a whip, just like her dad. Mal was very displeased to find that he actually liked the little rugrat - but only when no one was looking.
River had been sneakier than Kaylee and hadn’t let it drop she wanted a baby until she was already pregnant. Of course, since she didn’t bother to tell Jayne, either, that caused more problems than anyone on the boat wanted to deal with. Having a mind-reading, sharp-shooting genius was difficult enough, but add in a whole mess of hormones and they were all walking on eggshells around her for months. To avoid the throwing about of things, Mal had decided to welcome little Michael Simon to the boat with very open arms.
And before Mike was even born, Kaylee was pregnant again, too, and so Mal had to go through the whole ordeal again while waiting for Peter.
He was all ready to put a ban on the producing of offspring, but his cause was dampened some when it turned out he and Inara were going to have a baby. Little Mallory was just about the cutest, sweetest, most amazing thing he’d ever seen and maybe - maybe - he started to think that babies weren’t so bad.
No, babies were fine.
It was when they grew up to squabbling, sticky little kids that they really became unbearable.
“Daddy! Daddy, Merry did surgery on my dolls again!”
Mal rolled his eyes to the ceiling and hoped desperately he could get out of the situation unscathed.
“That ain’t true, captain,” Merrilynn said. “Little Mal gave me her dolls ‘cause she said that they were too girly an’ she didn’t want ‘em!”
“I did not!” Mallory screamed, stomping her little foot. “I said you could play with them if you wanted!”
“Don’t lie,” Merrilynn said, sticking her nose up in the air, looking eerily like Simon at his haughtiest. “You’re just a little kid, anyway; you don’t understand. Doctorin’ is way more important than playin’ dollies, anyhow.”
“B-but they were mine!” Mallory said, her eyes shining with the start of a real bawl. “And Mommy says that a proper lady plays with dolls and, and…” She sniffed and ran to Mal, clutching at his pants leg. “Daddy, make her give them back!”
Mal was saved the trouble of mediating, however, because at that moment Petey and Michael Simon ran through the hold, laughing and screaming.
“I’m gonna get you!” Peter called, waving what looked to be a very familiar gun in wild circles in the air.
“Can’t catch me, Alliance hun dan!” Michael Simon retorted. Mal made a note to talk to Jayne about his language around the children. Mike skidded to a halt and turned his own gun to Peter. He made a show of aiming and yelled “Pow! Pow!” as he pretended to shoot at the other boy.
And it was then Mal realized just why those guns looked familiar, especially when he was fairly certain they’d gotten their toy guns taken away just a few days ago. They were playing with real guns.
“What the hell do you think you’re doin’, Michael Simon?” Mal asked, dislodging his daughter and rushing over to the boys. He grabbed the gun out of Michael’s hands, then turned and did the same to Peter. “These are real. Who in the sphincter o’ hell gave the two o’ you real guns?”
Peter’s eyes widened and he gulped, scrambling behind his cousin. “It, uh… It isn’t dangerous,” Michael said meekly. “We got our others taken away an’ we just wanted to play.” He looked down, shuffling his feet. If he’d been just a little older, Mal would have bet anything that it was just an act. “And… I made sure to take all the bullets out.”
“Bullets? You were handlin’ bullets?” Mal looked over to the girls, where Mallory had launched a soggy, flailing attack on Merrilynn and the older girl was trying to push her away. He’d get one of the women to take care of it; dolls were not his area of expertise. “We’re goin’ to time-out,” he said, grabbing the boys’ collars. “An’ I’m tellin’ your fathers.”
“No!” Peter said, struggling fiercely. “He’ll be so mad! I’m not s’posed to play with guns.”
Michael just looked up at Mal and blinked. “But captain-grandpa… who do you think gave ‘em to me?”
~~~
Feedback always appreciated!
Full Table Here
Fandom: Firefly
Story 'Verse: String Theory
Character(s)/Pairing: Malcolm Reynolds, OCs (Mike Cobb, Peter Tam, Merrilynn Tam, Mallory Serra-Reynolds)
Prompt: Writer's Choice (Kids) from my 10_ocs claim
Word Count: 928
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Toy Guns
There was a reason Malcolm Reynolds had not wanted a big, family boat. They were smugglers. They committed crimes. It just wasn’t safe for kids on board. But had anyone listened to him? Did any of his crew ever listen to him?
No.
He’d been lenient with Zoë. She’d just lost her husband and her pregnancy after was the one thing that really got her through it; so he hadn’t complained. Even when Bonny had spit up on him, nearly gotten kidnapped when he was baby-sitting, and cried every time he got near her, he hadn’t said a word. Not a single, gorram word. And he’d wanted to.
But then Kaylee had convinced Simon that they needed to start a family. That hadn’t sat at all well with Mal, and he’d done all he could to convince her that they’d all be happier without a squalling little bundle of joy, but she’d had her heart set and telling Kaylee no when she was that determined was like kicking a puppy. Mal did not approve of the kicking of puppies.
So Merriweather Lynn was born, a pudgy, pink seven pounds, five ounces. And she was just as sweet-tempered as her mother, and smart as a whip, just like her dad. Mal was very displeased to find that he actually liked the little rugrat - but only when no one was looking.
River had been sneakier than Kaylee and hadn’t let it drop she wanted a baby until she was already pregnant. Of course, since she didn’t bother to tell Jayne, either, that caused more problems than anyone on the boat wanted to deal with. Having a mind-reading, sharp-shooting genius was difficult enough, but add in a whole mess of hormones and they were all walking on eggshells around her for months. To avoid the throwing about of things, Mal had decided to welcome little Michael Simon to the boat with very open arms.
And before Mike was even born, Kaylee was pregnant again, too, and so Mal had to go through the whole ordeal again while waiting for Peter.
He was all ready to put a ban on the producing of offspring, but his cause was dampened some when it turned out he and Inara were going to have a baby. Little Mallory was just about the cutest, sweetest, most amazing thing he’d ever seen and maybe - maybe - he started to think that babies weren’t so bad.
No, babies were fine.
It was when they grew up to squabbling, sticky little kids that they really became unbearable.
“Daddy! Daddy, Merry did surgery on my dolls again!”
Mal rolled his eyes to the ceiling and hoped desperately he could get out of the situation unscathed.
“That ain’t true, captain,” Merrilynn said. “Little Mal gave me her dolls ‘cause she said that they were too girly an’ she didn’t want ‘em!”
“I did not!” Mallory screamed, stomping her little foot. “I said you could play with them if you wanted!”
“Don’t lie,” Merrilynn said, sticking her nose up in the air, looking eerily like Simon at his haughtiest. “You’re just a little kid, anyway; you don’t understand. Doctorin’ is way more important than playin’ dollies, anyhow.”
“B-but they were mine!” Mallory said, her eyes shining with the start of a real bawl. “And Mommy says that a proper lady plays with dolls and, and…” She sniffed and ran to Mal, clutching at his pants leg. “Daddy, make her give them back!”
Mal was saved the trouble of mediating, however, because at that moment Petey and Michael Simon ran through the hold, laughing and screaming.
“I’m gonna get you!” Peter called, waving what looked to be a very familiar gun in wild circles in the air.
“Can’t catch me, Alliance hun dan!” Michael Simon retorted. Mal made a note to talk to Jayne about his language around the children. Mike skidded to a halt and turned his own gun to Peter. He made a show of aiming and yelled “Pow! Pow!” as he pretended to shoot at the other boy.
And it was then Mal realized just why those guns looked familiar, especially when he was fairly certain they’d gotten their toy guns taken away just a few days ago. They were playing with real guns.
“What the hell do you think you’re doin’, Michael Simon?” Mal asked, dislodging his daughter and rushing over to the boys. He grabbed the gun out of Michael’s hands, then turned and did the same to Peter. “These are real. Who in the sphincter o’ hell gave the two o’ you real guns?”
Peter’s eyes widened and he gulped, scrambling behind his cousin. “It, uh… It isn’t dangerous,” Michael said meekly. “We got our others taken away an’ we just wanted to play.” He looked down, shuffling his feet. If he’d been just a little older, Mal would have bet anything that it was just an act. “And… I made sure to take all the bullets out.”
“Bullets? You were handlin’ bullets?” Mal looked over to the girls, where Mallory had launched a soggy, flailing attack on Merrilynn and the older girl was trying to push her away. He’d get one of the women to take care of it; dolls were not his area of expertise. “We’re goin’ to time-out,” he said, grabbing the boys’ collars. “An’ I’m tellin’ your fathers.”
“No!” Peter said, struggling fiercely. “He’ll be so mad! I’m not s’posed to play with guns.”
Michael just looked up at Mal and blinked. “But captain-grandpa… who do you think gave ‘em to me?”
~~~
Feedback always appreciated!
Full Table Here