Green (Or Lack Thereof)
Title: Green (Or Lack Thereof)
Author: melody_so_sweet
Beta: lumberxjill
Rating: G
Pairing: Pete/Patrick
POV: Third omniscient.
Summary: Kid!fic. Patrick finds out he has his very own day, and Pete learns of the tradition of wearing green.
Disclaimer: The characters are based on real people, thus they are not creations of my own mind.
Author Notes: Wrote this like a year ago. I figured I'd post it this year on St. Patty's day. :]
Green (Or Lack Thereof)
Patrick bounced up and down in his car seat on the way to school. Every day was such an adventure, and Miss Greta always told stories on Mondays. The houses and trees on the side of the street flew by, and he wondered if they missed him while he was at school.
His mommy fixed her hair after she pulled up in the preschool parking lot, getting out of the car to come and unbuckle him.
“No, I wanna do it myself,” he insisted, slapping her hands away when she reached for the buckles. He bushed the big red button with all his might until the buckle finally let go. “Yay!” His hands shot in the air to show his victory, and his mommy laughed, grabbing him from the seat and setting him back down on the ground outside.
The inside of the classroom, his mommy scribbled on a piece of paper (she did that every day), and told him she would see him at the end of the day. Patrick nodded and smiled back at her.
He flopped down in front of the crayons and waited for his friends to arrive.
Two pictures of cars and three of cats later, he heard the familiar voice of his best friend Pete come in through the door. He whirled his head around just in time to see Pete completely forget about his mommy, and run up to him.
Pete wrapped his arms Patrick in a death grip. “Hi!” He yelled into Patrick’s ear.
“Hi Pete!” He tried to match Pete’s volume-something he never seemed to be able to do entirely.
Pete sat down next to him, and waved goodbye to his mommy. “Whatcha doin'?” He asked.
“I was drawing ‘till you got here,” Patrick said, sticking his pictures out for Pete to see.
Pete cooed in amazement, making Patrick blush from modesty.
Patrick looked at Pete from behind the paper. Pete had a bright green shirt on today. It looked good on his tiny body.
Smiling, Pete turned his attention to a longhaired boy sitting across the table from them. Patrick had hardly noticed him there; he was so quiet.
“Wha‘choo drawin’ Bilvy?” Pete asked the boy.
William looked up from his drawing, green crayon poised above the paper. “I’m drawing a clover.” He stared up at the energetic Pete with intense eyes. The eyes of one older than himself.
Pete leaned over to get a better look. “Why you drawin’ a clover?”
William smiled. “Because it’s Saint Patrick’s day.”
It took about one second before Pete’s head whirled around to grin at Patrick, and point a finger at him. “It’s Patty’s day?!” He wailed excitedly.
The longhaired boy shrugged and went back to his drawing.
“Patty you have a day! Why didn’t ‘chu tell me?”
Patrick shrugged, and smiled secretly. “I didn’t know.”
Miss Greta called them all to the magic rug then for story time. Pete shot his arm up in the air.
“Yes Pete?” Miss Greta said.
“Today is Patrick’s day.” He smiled up at her, crinkling his eyes.
She grinned and held up the book on her lap for him to see. “That’s part of our story today.”
He bit his lip trying to read the letters on the front of the book. He saw an S… and a P… a T and an R…
“This is a book called Saint Patrick,” Miss Greta told the group of wiggly children.
Yeah, that’s what it said. Pete nodded-he knew that.
She explained that Patrick was a saint a long, long time ago that people thought was very wonderful. After all, they named a whole day after him.
After Miss Greta read the story, they got to go play with the toys in the room. Patrick sat down with Jon and Spencer to play with the motor train.
“You’re so lucky.” Spencer said.
Patrick looked at him questioningly. “Why?”
“’Cause you’re named after Saint Patrick.”
Patrick thought about this. Did this mean that it was his day too?
A sharp pain in his arm interrupted his thoughts. “Owww!” He wailed, and spun around to look up at a grinning Pete.
“Ha! You’re not wearin’ green!” Pete laughed.
Patrick’s eyes started to get watery and hot. Soon the threatening tears were falling down his cheeks. “So?!” He yelled and stood up, matching Pete’s height, if not exceeding it.
Pete looked a little confused. But before he could say anything Patrick stormed off to the other side of the room.
Jon frowned. “Why’d you do that?”
Pete’s eyebrows furrowed on his forehead. “You’re sposta pinch people who aren’t wearin’ green on saint patty’s day. Gabe told me.”
Patrick was in the reading corner all by himself, frowning at a Winnie The Pooh book. Pete looked over and felt very sad: he had made his best friend cry.
“You should go say sorry.” Spencer sighed and put another link on their train track.
Pete nodded slowly, and made his way over to Patrick. He plopped down next to his friend. “Sorry. It’s just you’re ‘sposta wear green on St. Patty’s day.”
“Not my fault,” Patrick grumbled and turned the page. “Ya didn’t have ta go an’ pinch me so hard…”
Pete could see Patrick trying to hold back tears and he felt really really bad. Like the time his mommy said his pet hamster ran away. Patrick turned on his bum to face away from Pete with a ‘hmph’.
When playtime came around, Pete was still at a loss. What could he do to cheer Patrick up and make him not mad anymore? Then, he got an idea.
Miss Greta let all the children out onto the playground, and Pete made sure he was the first to get out, even if it meant pushing past the bigger boys to get to the door in the front of the line. They glared down meanly at him, but he didn’t care, he had to get out to the playground first. No matter what.
The door opened, and he rushed out to the top of the slide, the highest place he could find, and yelled as loud as he could, “Hey e’rybody! Hey! Listen!”
The other children stopped running and looked up at him, curious to know why he was yelling. He could see Patrick slowly walking towards the swing set, last to emerge from the classroom.
“Today is Patty’s day! So nobody’s allowed to pinch him, kay? Even if he’s not wearin’ green, cuz he was named after Saint Patrick anyway, so if you pinch him he gets to pinch you back or I’ll tell Miss Greta you picked on him in the first place.”
Some of the kids seemed bummed they didn’t get to pinch Patrick for not wearing green, and others were nervous from Pete’s threat, but they all got his point. He slid down the slide and went to look for Patrick by the swings.
Patrick was sitting on the swing farthest away from the rest of the group, swaying softly, shuffling his sneakers against the woodchips and looking sad.
“Patty?”
Patrick turned his head away from Pete, clearly still not talking to him.
“I told ‘em not to pinch you or I’d tell on them.” Pete held his arm out to Patrick, sticky fingers extended outwards. “You can pinch me back if you wanna. I’m sorry I pinched ya before.”
Big eyes looked up at him, unbelieving. “Really?”
Pete looked down at his feet, feeling really warm all of a sudden. “Yeah, if you wanna…”
Patrick’s fingers pinched Pete’s forearm softly, and he hugged his friend tight. “Thanks, Pete. I forgive ya.”
Miss Greta called them in then, and made them all sit still and try and take naps, and Patrick decided he actually kinda liked having a day all to himself if it meant he got special attention from his best friend.
Author: melody_so_sweet
Beta: lumberxjill
Rating: G
Pairing: Pete/Patrick
POV: Third omniscient.
Summary: Kid!fic. Patrick finds out he has his very own day, and Pete learns of the tradition of wearing green.
Disclaimer: The characters are based on real people, thus they are not creations of my own mind.
Author Notes: Wrote this like a year ago. I figured I'd post it this year on St. Patty's day. :]
Green (Or Lack Thereof)
Patrick bounced up and down in his car seat on the way to school. Every day was such an adventure, and Miss Greta always told stories on Mondays. The houses and trees on the side of the street flew by, and he wondered if they missed him while he was at school.
His mommy fixed her hair after she pulled up in the preschool parking lot, getting out of the car to come and unbuckle him.
“No, I wanna do it myself,” he insisted, slapping her hands away when she reached for the buckles. He bushed the big red button with all his might until the buckle finally let go. “Yay!” His hands shot in the air to show his victory, and his mommy laughed, grabbing him from the seat and setting him back down on the ground outside.
The inside of the classroom, his mommy scribbled on a piece of paper (she did that every day), and told him she would see him at the end of the day. Patrick nodded and smiled back at her.
He flopped down in front of the crayons and waited for his friends to arrive.
Two pictures of cars and three of cats later, he heard the familiar voice of his best friend Pete come in through the door. He whirled his head around just in time to see Pete completely forget about his mommy, and run up to him.
Pete wrapped his arms Patrick in a death grip. “Hi!” He yelled into Patrick’s ear.
“Hi Pete!” He tried to match Pete’s volume-something he never seemed to be able to do entirely.
Pete sat down next to him, and waved goodbye to his mommy. “Whatcha doin'?” He asked.
“I was drawing ‘till you got here,” Patrick said, sticking his pictures out for Pete to see.
Pete cooed in amazement, making Patrick blush from modesty.
Patrick looked at Pete from behind the paper. Pete had a bright green shirt on today. It looked good on his tiny body.
Smiling, Pete turned his attention to a longhaired boy sitting across the table from them. Patrick had hardly noticed him there; he was so quiet.
“Wha‘choo drawin’ Bilvy?” Pete asked the boy.
William looked up from his drawing, green crayon poised above the paper. “I’m drawing a clover.” He stared up at the energetic Pete with intense eyes. The eyes of one older than himself.
Pete leaned over to get a better look. “Why you drawin’ a clover?”
William smiled. “Because it’s Saint Patrick’s day.”
It took about one second before Pete’s head whirled around to grin at Patrick, and point a finger at him. “It’s Patty’s day?!” He wailed excitedly.
The longhaired boy shrugged and went back to his drawing.
“Patty you have a day! Why didn’t ‘chu tell me?”
Patrick shrugged, and smiled secretly. “I didn’t know.”
Miss Greta called them all to the magic rug then for story time. Pete shot his arm up in the air.
“Yes Pete?” Miss Greta said.
“Today is Patrick’s day.” He smiled up at her, crinkling his eyes.
She grinned and held up the book on her lap for him to see. “That’s part of our story today.”
He bit his lip trying to read the letters on the front of the book. He saw an S… and a P… a T and an R…
“This is a book called Saint Patrick,” Miss Greta told the group of wiggly children.
Yeah, that’s what it said. Pete nodded-he knew that.
She explained that Patrick was a saint a long, long time ago that people thought was very wonderful. After all, they named a whole day after him.
After Miss Greta read the story, they got to go play with the toys in the room. Patrick sat down with Jon and Spencer to play with the motor train.
“You’re so lucky.” Spencer said.
Patrick looked at him questioningly. “Why?”
“’Cause you’re named after Saint Patrick.”
Patrick thought about this. Did this mean that it was his day too?
A sharp pain in his arm interrupted his thoughts. “Owww!” He wailed, and spun around to look up at a grinning Pete.
“Ha! You’re not wearin’ green!” Pete laughed.
Patrick’s eyes started to get watery and hot. Soon the threatening tears were falling down his cheeks. “So?!” He yelled and stood up, matching Pete’s height, if not exceeding it.
Pete looked a little confused. But before he could say anything Patrick stormed off to the other side of the room.
Jon frowned. “Why’d you do that?”
Pete’s eyebrows furrowed on his forehead. “You’re sposta pinch people who aren’t wearin’ green on saint patty’s day. Gabe told me.”
Patrick was in the reading corner all by himself, frowning at a Winnie The Pooh book. Pete looked over and felt very sad: he had made his best friend cry.
“You should go say sorry.” Spencer sighed and put another link on their train track.
Pete nodded slowly, and made his way over to Patrick. He plopped down next to his friend. “Sorry. It’s just you’re ‘sposta wear green on St. Patty’s day.”
“Not my fault,” Patrick grumbled and turned the page. “Ya didn’t have ta go an’ pinch me so hard…”
Pete could see Patrick trying to hold back tears and he felt really really bad. Like the time his mommy said his pet hamster ran away. Patrick turned on his bum to face away from Pete with a ‘hmph’.
When playtime came around, Pete was still at a loss. What could he do to cheer Patrick up and make him not mad anymore? Then, he got an idea.
Miss Greta let all the children out onto the playground, and Pete made sure he was the first to get out, even if it meant pushing past the bigger boys to get to the door in the front of the line. They glared down meanly at him, but he didn’t care, he had to get out to the playground first. No matter what.
The door opened, and he rushed out to the top of the slide, the highest place he could find, and yelled as loud as he could, “Hey e’rybody! Hey! Listen!”
The other children stopped running and looked up at him, curious to know why he was yelling. He could see Patrick slowly walking towards the swing set, last to emerge from the classroom.
“Today is Patty’s day! So nobody’s allowed to pinch him, kay? Even if he’s not wearin’ green, cuz he was named after Saint Patrick anyway, so if you pinch him he gets to pinch you back or I’ll tell Miss Greta you picked on him in the first place.”
Some of the kids seemed bummed they didn’t get to pinch Patrick for not wearing green, and others were nervous from Pete’s threat, but they all got his point. He slid down the slide and went to look for Patrick by the swings.
Patrick was sitting on the swing farthest away from the rest of the group, swaying softly, shuffling his sneakers against the woodchips and looking sad.
“Patty?”
Patrick turned his head away from Pete, clearly still not talking to him.
“I told ‘em not to pinch you or I’d tell on them.” Pete held his arm out to Patrick, sticky fingers extended outwards. “You can pinch me back if you wanna. I’m sorry I pinched ya before.”
Big eyes looked up at him, unbelieving. “Really?”
Pete looked down at his feet, feeling really warm all of a sudden. “Yeah, if you wanna…”
Patrick’s fingers pinched Pete’s forearm softly, and he hugged his friend tight. “Thanks, Pete. I forgive ya.”
Miss Greta called them in then, and made them all sit still and try and take naps, and Patrick decided he actually kinda liked having a day all to himself if it meant he got special attention from his best friend.