writers_muses | 94.2.C. Sigmund Freud quote
94.2.C. "I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father's protection." - Sigmund Freud
[Follows THIS]
James wasn’t sure what he was thinking volunteering himself for uncle babysitting duties the night before he was due back at work, but when he saw Andrew’s note about wanting to take Ali out for the night, he just figured why the hell not. Harri had been kept back at work, so his baby niece was a much more welcome distraction than channel surfing or staring at a laptop screen. Of course, Ali had initially tried to protest, still believing Jamie was on the brink of crawling, but when they dropped her over to Harri and James’ place, Ali was dressed up and looking gorgeous and well-shagged. Quite clearly Andrew was learning that the way to Ali’s heart was through his cock.
It took Ali fifteen minutes to run through all the standard Mum things that came when she had to leave Jamie with someone, like where all the spare baby clothes were in the diaper bag, emergency numbers, and threats to James’ nether regions along the lines of separating them painfully into multiple parts if anything happened to her baby girl. Then another ten saying goodbye to her and reluctantly handing her over into her favourite uncle’s arms. James was amused more than anything at how easily Ali had slipped into the mummy shoes after months of fearing she would suck. As far as James was concerned, she was one of the best mummies ever, and clearly Jamie agreed by the way she bawled her eyes out when Ali and Andrew left.
It took some succinct pleading and bribing on James’ part to get her to stop, as well as a good few minutes making stupid faces in the bathroom mirror while she watched his reflection. Then he put her on the floor and barricaded a bunch of pillows around her to try and witness the floor carpet rock giggle thing Andrew was talking about. It wasn’t going to happen, though. No way was she having a piece of performing on demand. Instead, she just laid there with the tears drying on her cheeks, big blue eyes watching Uncle James over the top of the rattle she was sucking. There was no rolling, no rocking, no acrobatics. There was giggling, though, eventually. He knelt in front of her and cupped her little foot in his hand, tickling her toes. She started to giggle and kick her little feet in response. James just couldn’t help but smile. This was brilliant. He loved being an uncle and he loved that Ali was a Mum. Jamie was such a happy baby and it was like she was purposefully given to them to contradict all the shit that had been piled on them over the last year.
“You aren’t going to play along, are you, possum?” James asked her, rubbing her little stomach through the fluffy lavender onesie she was dressed in. “That’s my girl. You don’t cater to anyone, alright? Except your Daddy. I know you think he’s the best thing since Mummy’s boobs, don’t you? You’re right too. He’s a good man. Looked after your Mummy when she had no one else, just like she deserved…”
He sighed softly and scooped her up into his arms, nursing her against his chest as he went over to the sofa. She dropped the rattle when he picked her up in favour of putting her little hand up to touch his chin. He laughed, turning his head to kiss her baby fingers and then kissed her forehead. He realised he might just have to shoot some blokes one day if they tried anything on with her. She was going to be a stunner and no way was he going to let any kid wave their dick in her face. Not if he had anything to say about it, anyway. He was sure they would be very lovely young teenage males - they would just have to live the rest of their lives dickless.
Picking the sofa to settle in, he rested his feet on the coffee table, drawing his knees up so she could sit in his lap and have a brace behind her back. She put her hand up to her mouth to suck on her fist and he smiled again, brushing his fingers across her fine strawberry blonde hair. He started to bounce her softly, humming the first bars of ‘I Can’t Help Myself’ to her before starting to sing the words to her. “Sugarpie, honeybunch… I can’t help myself…” She was giggling again and he knew then he hadn’t made any mistake whatsoever choosing to come back to his old life. He would have missed out on this, missed out on everything really. He still had his job with the SS, even though it was more a supervisory role than hands-on investigation, but he had the FBI for that. That alone was something else that set a warmth curling inside him. He missed it. He missed his colleagues. He missed Izzy. James pushed forward and kissed his niece’s little tiny nose, enjoying the way she closed her eyes in response and made a grab for his hair, catching a handful of it. “Shit,” he said with a laugh. “Bloody hell, kiddo, you have your Mummy’s strength. You start pulling toy pistols on me and I’m a goner.”
He pried her hand away from his hair and went back to just watching her in awe. A little tiny person that had grown inside Ali for eight months, and was now here, living and breathing, very much a part of all their lives. He bit down on his lip and then reached over to pick up a small photograph from where it was lying on the sofa and held it up for her to see. “See that, honeybunch? That’s your cousin there. Now I know it just looks like a white blob, but you did too once and look how you turned out.” He watched her with a soft smile on his face, almost as if he was waiting for her to answer. She just drooled over his hand that was cupped securely around her belly and flashed him a bright baby smile followed by another giggle, wriggling in his grip. Either she understood or she was about to fill her nappy on him. “A Baby Fraser-Ryan. Scary, huh? I know, I think so too. I don’t think I was even expecting this to look so much like a baby, but it does…”
He turned the image around and looked at it for a few lingering moments, his thumb brushing across the edge of the glossy card. He turned it back to her, bouncing her just a little. “And you see this?” He tapped his thumb against a part of the photo near the edge. “Penis, which I’m sure is a work of art in the flesh and not just, you know, a scratchy blob that looks like it’s connect to his foot. That’s right, possum. Think of how many wedgies you’re going to be able to give him, and teach him how to eat dirt and bugs, then steal his Lego spaceship and shave one of his eyebrows off…”
He held the photo up in front of his face again, looking at it for what felt like an eternity before he put it to his lips and kissed it softly. “My son.”
All muses referenced with permission and are from the princeton2nyc universe
Word Count | 1,229
[Follows THIS]
James wasn’t sure what he was thinking volunteering himself for uncle babysitting duties the night before he was due back at work, but when he saw Andrew’s note about wanting to take Ali out for the night, he just figured why the hell not. Harri had been kept back at work, so his baby niece was a much more welcome distraction than channel surfing or staring at a laptop screen. Of course, Ali had initially tried to protest, still believing Jamie was on the brink of crawling, but when they dropped her over to Harri and James’ place, Ali was dressed up and looking gorgeous and well-shagged. Quite clearly Andrew was learning that the way to Ali’s heart was through his cock.
It took Ali fifteen minutes to run through all the standard Mum things that came when she had to leave Jamie with someone, like where all the spare baby clothes were in the diaper bag, emergency numbers, and threats to James’ nether regions along the lines of separating them painfully into multiple parts if anything happened to her baby girl. Then another ten saying goodbye to her and reluctantly handing her over into her favourite uncle’s arms. James was amused more than anything at how easily Ali had slipped into the mummy shoes after months of fearing she would suck. As far as James was concerned, she was one of the best mummies ever, and clearly Jamie agreed by the way she bawled her eyes out when Ali and Andrew left.
It took some succinct pleading and bribing on James’ part to get her to stop, as well as a good few minutes making stupid faces in the bathroom mirror while she watched his reflection. Then he put her on the floor and barricaded a bunch of pillows around her to try and witness the floor carpet rock giggle thing Andrew was talking about. It wasn’t going to happen, though. No way was she having a piece of performing on demand. Instead, she just laid there with the tears drying on her cheeks, big blue eyes watching Uncle James over the top of the rattle she was sucking. There was no rolling, no rocking, no acrobatics. There was giggling, though, eventually. He knelt in front of her and cupped her little foot in his hand, tickling her toes. She started to giggle and kick her little feet in response. James just couldn’t help but smile. This was brilliant. He loved being an uncle and he loved that Ali was a Mum. Jamie was such a happy baby and it was like she was purposefully given to them to contradict all the shit that had been piled on them over the last year.
“You aren’t going to play along, are you, possum?” James asked her, rubbing her little stomach through the fluffy lavender onesie she was dressed in. “That’s my girl. You don’t cater to anyone, alright? Except your Daddy. I know you think he’s the best thing since Mummy’s boobs, don’t you? You’re right too. He’s a good man. Looked after your Mummy when she had no one else, just like she deserved…”
He sighed softly and scooped her up into his arms, nursing her against his chest as he went over to the sofa. She dropped the rattle when he picked her up in favour of putting her little hand up to touch his chin. He laughed, turning his head to kiss her baby fingers and then kissed her forehead. He realised he might just have to shoot some blokes one day if they tried anything on with her. She was going to be a stunner and no way was he going to let any kid wave their dick in her face. Not if he had anything to say about it, anyway. He was sure they would be very lovely young teenage males - they would just have to live the rest of their lives dickless.
Picking the sofa to settle in, he rested his feet on the coffee table, drawing his knees up so she could sit in his lap and have a brace behind her back. She put her hand up to her mouth to suck on her fist and he smiled again, brushing his fingers across her fine strawberry blonde hair. He started to bounce her softly, humming the first bars of ‘I Can’t Help Myself’ to her before starting to sing the words to her. “Sugarpie, honeybunch… I can’t help myself…” She was giggling again and he knew then he hadn’t made any mistake whatsoever choosing to come back to his old life. He would have missed out on this, missed out on everything really. He still had his job with the SS, even though it was more a supervisory role than hands-on investigation, but he had the FBI for that. That alone was something else that set a warmth curling inside him. He missed it. He missed his colleagues. He missed Izzy. James pushed forward and kissed his niece’s little tiny nose, enjoying the way she closed her eyes in response and made a grab for his hair, catching a handful of it. “Shit,” he said with a laugh. “Bloody hell, kiddo, you have your Mummy’s strength. You start pulling toy pistols on me and I’m a goner.”
He pried her hand away from his hair and went back to just watching her in awe. A little tiny person that had grown inside Ali for eight months, and was now here, living and breathing, very much a part of all their lives. He bit down on his lip and then reached over to pick up a small photograph from where it was lying on the sofa and held it up for her to see. “See that, honeybunch? That’s your cousin there. Now I know it just looks like a white blob, but you did too once and look how you turned out.” He watched her with a soft smile on his face, almost as if he was waiting for her to answer. She just drooled over his hand that was cupped securely around her belly and flashed him a bright baby smile followed by another giggle, wriggling in his grip. Either she understood or she was about to fill her nappy on him. “A Baby Fraser-Ryan. Scary, huh? I know, I think so too. I don’t think I was even expecting this to look so much like a baby, but it does…”
He turned the image around and looked at it for a few lingering moments, his thumb brushing across the edge of the glossy card. He turned it back to her, bouncing her just a little. “And you see this?” He tapped his thumb against a part of the photo near the edge. “Penis, which I’m sure is a work of art in the flesh and not just, you know, a scratchy blob that looks like it’s connect to his foot. That’s right, possum. Think of how many wedgies you’re going to be able to give him, and teach him how to eat dirt and bugs, then steal his Lego spaceship and shave one of his eyebrows off…”
He held the photo up in front of his face again, looking at it for what felt like an eternity before he put it to his lips and kissed it softly. “My son.”
All muses referenced with permission and are from the princeton2nyc universe
Word Count | 1,229