Delaware-Coulson Family fanfic
based on this Tumblr: Canton Everett Delaware III, father of Phil Coulson.
Author: LJG
Character/Pairing: Coulson, Carol Danvers (Ms. Marvel)
Genre: character vignette
Rating: PG - some bad language
Carol Danvers woke up still a little drunk and nauseous, and wiped a line of half dried drool off the side of her cheek. She was lying on a couch with the sound of the city far below. A television was on: Will you do it for two Scooby Snacks? There was the scent of a child and milk and Cap’n Crunch.
With a groan, she pointed a finger at the TV and turned it off.
There was a soft clink of the spoon being set into the cereal bowl. A very young voice said, “Excuse me? I was watching that. Turn it back on, please.”
Carol shook her head, a bad idea, and mumbled, “Idon’tthinkso.”
There was a pause followed by the sound of the child getting up and turning the TV back on. Watch out Shaggy! He’s coming your way!
Carol swallowed thickly, lifted a shaky finger and turned off the TV.
Again, the spoon hit the bowl and the kid got up, but instead of turning the TV back on, he stepped into her field of vision, his lips pressed into a small crease of irritation. He has Canton’s eyes, she thought.
Last night snapped in to place - seeing just what it took to get this body drunk (more than even she imagined) and then the terror of what might happen, leaning against the pay phone and drunk calling again and again until someone picked up and thank God it was Canton Everett Delaware III.
The kid, a boy, was looking her over. When he saw that he had her attention, he said, “It’s Saturday morning and this is my TV. Dad said that I can watch TV and if you want, you can go lie down in my bed if that’s okay with me. I guess it’s okay, as long as you’re not going to puke or pee or bleed or anything.”
Carol stared the kid down. More than anything, she didn’t want to have to get up and she didn’t want to have to listen to the damned TV.
Her voice came out like gravel. “Turn it on again and I’ll fucking blow it to smithereens.”
The kid nodded gently. “You don’t have very many friends, do you?” he asked.
Shit. Carol felt tears rush to her eyes and her nose burn. God, no. No kid, I don’t have very many friends. She should blow the television to hell, fuck, blow this whole apartment to pieces. She could mindfuck this kid, turn him into a pile of quivering, useless sludge.
He put a small hand on her shoulder. “I’m good at coffee. Would you like some coffee?”
Carol closed her eyes, shuddered and then nodded. When he lifted his hand from her shoulder, she sat up, pushing wild hair behind her ears. “What time is it?”
He went to the television, turned it on and stepped toward the kitchen. “Oh-eight-forty-two,” he threw over his shoulder.
An hour later Canton and David both made an appearance, freshly showered and bright eyed. Carol was sitting up on the couch, the blanket around her shoulders, munching Cap’n Crunch and snorting at the Pink Panther.
“Ah,” said Canton, “I see you’ve met Phil.”
“The Secret Weapon?” Carol reached for her coffee and lifted it for a long sip. It was the best damned cup of coffee she’d ever had. “How old is he?” she muttered.
“Nine,” David supplied.
Carol shook her head and then lifted a brow in question. “Human?”
Canton looked at Phil to see Phil looking at him. They smiled at each other. “That,” said Canton, “is classified.”
Author: LJG
Character/Pairing: Coulson, Carol Danvers (Ms. Marvel)
Genre: character vignette
Rating: PG - some bad language
Carol Danvers woke up still a little drunk and nauseous, and wiped a line of half dried drool off the side of her cheek. She was lying on a couch with the sound of the city far below. A television was on: Will you do it for two Scooby Snacks? There was the scent of a child and milk and Cap’n Crunch.
With a groan, she pointed a finger at the TV and turned it off.
There was a soft clink of the spoon being set into the cereal bowl. A very young voice said, “Excuse me? I was watching that. Turn it back on, please.”
Carol shook her head, a bad idea, and mumbled, “Idon’tthinkso.”
There was a pause followed by the sound of the child getting up and turning the TV back on. Watch out Shaggy! He’s coming your way!
Carol swallowed thickly, lifted a shaky finger and turned off the TV.
Again, the spoon hit the bowl and the kid got up, but instead of turning the TV back on, he stepped into her field of vision, his lips pressed into a small crease of irritation. He has Canton’s eyes, she thought.
Last night snapped in to place - seeing just what it took to get this body drunk (more than even she imagined) and then the terror of what might happen, leaning against the pay phone and drunk calling again and again until someone picked up and thank God it was Canton Everett Delaware III.
The kid, a boy, was looking her over. When he saw that he had her attention, he said, “It’s Saturday morning and this is my TV. Dad said that I can watch TV and if you want, you can go lie down in my bed if that’s okay with me. I guess it’s okay, as long as you’re not going to puke or pee or bleed or anything.”
Carol stared the kid down. More than anything, she didn’t want to have to get up and she didn’t want to have to listen to the damned TV.
Her voice came out like gravel. “Turn it on again and I’ll fucking blow it to smithereens.”
The kid nodded gently. “You don’t have very many friends, do you?” he asked.
Shit. Carol felt tears rush to her eyes and her nose burn. God, no. No kid, I don’t have very many friends. She should blow the television to hell, fuck, blow this whole apartment to pieces. She could mindfuck this kid, turn him into a pile of quivering, useless sludge.
He put a small hand on her shoulder. “I’m good at coffee. Would you like some coffee?”
Carol closed her eyes, shuddered and then nodded. When he lifted his hand from her shoulder, she sat up, pushing wild hair behind her ears. “What time is it?”
He went to the television, turned it on and stepped toward the kitchen. “Oh-eight-forty-two,” he threw over his shoulder.
An hour later Canton and David both made an appearance, freshly showered and bright eyed. Carol was sitting up on the couch, the blanket around her shoulders, munching Cap’n Crunch and snorting at the Pink Panther.
“Ah,” said Canton, “I see you’ve met Phil.”
“The Secret Weapon?” Carol reached for her coffee and lifted it for a long sip. It was the best damned cup of coffee she’d ever had. “How old is he?” she muttered.
“Nine,” David supplied.
Carol shook her head and then lifted a brow in question. “Human?”
Canton looked at Phil to see Phil looking at him. They smiled at each other. “That,” said Canton, “is classified.”