(no subject)
Meligot knows that Marcus and Harper came back late last night, so she's been expecting them. She's been expecting them doubly because the transports log on her computer reported a third party transported along with them, and though she expects that they wouldn't bring anyone along unless it was important, she's still the one who keeps track of all her people, and if they don't come by soon with an explanation, she'll go looking for them herself. So when there's a knock on her door, and she calls "come in!" she expects it to be Marcus or Harper or both, and probably the third person as well.
Harper sticks his head inside. "Meligot," he says cheerfully, though he looks a little tired. "Someone you ought to meet."
"Oh?" Meligot says, leaning back in her chair. "Nice to see you again, Harper. Who is it, then?"
"'It,'" Marcus' voice can be heard to say, as he pushes Harper into the room, 'would be my daughter, Emilie."
Who is, as it happens, in his arms right now, nibbling on her lower lip, looking at Meligot with a mixture of curiosity and fear.
Meligot blinks.
Marcus did a good job, she thinks distantly. It's difficult to actually shock her, but she's managed it.
"Hello, Emilie," she says, quite composedly, and gives the little girl a smile.
Harper reaches over, brushing Emilie's hair lightly, and she looks a little less frightened, and ventures a wave.
"Emilie," Marcus murmurs gently, "this is your aunt Meligot."
Meligot takes that as her cue to slip off her chair onto the floor to reach about eye-level with Emilie, and hold out a hand to the little girl. "Aunt Mabit," she says firmly. "It's lovely to have you here, Emilie."
Emilie squirms a little, and Marcus lets her down. She stares at Meligot for a bit, and then says, "You have funny socks."
Meligot bursts out laughing, liking this girl immediately. "I do," she agrees. "They're rainbow socks, Emilie, and your--" she hesitates a fraction of a second, unsure what to call Harper to this girl-- "Harper" she settles for, "gave them to me, because he knows I like having funny socks."
Marcus smirks, just a little, leaning back against the wall next to the door, one hand snaking out to catch Harper's wrist and pull him closer.
Emilie glances up at Harper, briefly, before looking back at Meligot and nodding. "Daddy's good at knowing what people like," she agrees.
Harper goes faintly red, and stares at the top of Emilie's head with something like fond embarrassment.
Meligot manages to keep from smirking, because there's a small child in the room-- which reminds her of something. "How old are you, Emilie?"
"Three," she replies in a piping voice, holding up three fingers, accurately.
Behind her, somewhat if not entirely unobtrusively, Marcus' arm has slipped around Harper's waist, hand holding one of his loosely.
"Three is a very good age," Meligot tells her. "And when's your birthday?"
"Stepember fifth," she fumbles. Close, though.
Darn, Meligot thinks, and is a little surprised at herself. She has an interdimensional organisation to help run, and she can't afford to be thinking about throwing birthday parties for little girls, especially if said little girl's fathers are helping run said organisation. It's just-- Meligot loves children, and the little she's seen of Emilie has her quite charmed. (Emilie's such a very nice name, in fact, and there's a name in the French quite like--)
"Then you'll have lots of time before your fourth birthday to meet all your of your other aunts and uncles," she tells Emilie cheerfully.
"We thought you ought to be the first one to be surprised," Harper says. "Personally I'm looking forward to Alden's face." He ruffles Emilie's hair.
Emilie looks up at him, something between confusion and concern remarkably evident on her face.
Marcus stifles a laugh against Harper's shoulder, reaching down to smoothe her hair once Harper's done messing it.
"Don't mind them," Meligot tells Emilie. "Everyone will love you." And that's not a lie-- most everyone will, and if she suspects they won't, well-- she'll just have to have little talks with people like Alden and perhaps Juilliard beforehand. Emilie will be welcome here.
Emilie does not quite look entirely reassured, and after a brief moment Marcus pulls away from Harper to slide down the wall, pulling her into his lap once he's seated. "She's
right, my dearest," he murmurs. "Your aunts and uncles here will like you very much indeed."
"Theirn," Harper says, "will make a French cuisine expert of you, and Finn will show you around the garden if I can't. He takes care of the roses."
Marcus almost says something, sharply, glancing up at Harper, before cutting himself off before he begins and merely kissing Emilie's hair, lightly, one hand smoothing over her back gently.
Harper winces and looks away, uncertainty flickering over his face. Up until this point, Meligot was thinking they made a neat little picture; the two men and their daughter.
Quickly, though, Marcus reaches up and catches his hand, pressing a kiss to Harper's knuckles before leaning back against the wall more comfortably, resettling Emilie against his chest.
"Yes," Meligot says slowly, and gives them both a thoughtful look. "I have some... work-related things to catch up on with the two of you, so perhaps one of you can show Emilie around headquarters, and one of you can stay to talk for a short while?"
"I can stay," Harper says quietly, glancing down at Marcus. "You'd best be the one making explanations anyway."
"Daddy?" Emilie turns her head, looking up at Harper, eyes wide. "But you said you were gonna show me the garden!"
Marcus smiles at Harper, ruefully, a what are you going to do? type of look.
Harper shoots him a slightly panicked look. Animals are a lot simpler than little girls.
"There are a lot of rooms at headquarters, Emilie," Meligot cuts in diplomatically. "I need to speak with one of your daddies, so how about you decide if you want to see the garden right now or not. If you do, I'll have to speak with Marcus for a little while; if not, you'll have to wait and see the garden later."
Emilie pushes herself up to her feet. Unfortunately, this requires stepping on Marcus. Fortunately for him, she manages to miss anything vital, as she tugs at Harper's hand. "But you said!"
Marcus winces, just slightly.
"Then I'll take you to the garden," Harper says, kneeling down in front of her. "We were just asking if you wanted to go now or later. I will take you, far more than one time."
"Marcus can catch up with you in the garden," Meligot adds. "I only need him for a few minutes."
"Go ahead," Marcus urges, smiling up at Harper crookedly. "She's right, I'll catch up with you both soon, I'm sure. And then we can go get lunch."
Harper shoots him an unreadable look and scoops Emilie up into his arms. "Shall we to the garden, then?" he asks her, giving her a soft smile.
She nods, wrapping her arms around Harper's neck, head resting on his shoulder.
Marcus mouths something to him, silently, one hand obscuring the action enough that Meligot can't read it.
Harper gives him a half-nod, since his arms are otherwised occupied, and says, "Say goodbye to Aunt Mabit for now, Emilie."
Shyly, the three-year-old turns her head to look at Meligot, before grinning quickly and hiding her face against Harper's shirt.
Meligot grins back, though the little girl can't see it. "Wonderful meeting you, Emilie," she says, and nods to Harper. "Thanks for bringing her in. Go show her the gardens."
"So," Meligot says, when the door is shut, and gets back into her chair, crossing her arms. "Explain."
Marcus seems disinclined to bother moving from what is apparently a comfortable seat on the floor. "Tell me where to start," he suggests.
"Anywhere you like," Meligot offers. She's not really angry-- not by far, because Emilie is a really charming little girl-- but this is a little crazy. "Maybe you should start with the part where you suddenly have a three-year-old daughter."
"Ah yes. That one was something of a surprise to me, as well."
He considers, for a moment, and then shrugs, closing his eyes as he stretches his legs out in front of him, lacing his fingers together over his stomach.
"Very soon after I'd finally regained use of my arm and hand," he begins, "I met a lovely woman in her early thirties by the name of Virginie. She was a pastry chef, in town. It was a brief, if generally satisfying affair, and then she disappeared off to the city, with a promotion. A bit disappointing, to be sure, but I was distracted almost immediately by other concerns, and then various medical issues surrounding my grandfather's impending and eventual death. I didn't hear anything from her, and eventually forgot that I ought to wish to."
"Fastforward nine months, and she had your child," Meligot murmurs. "I take it she somehow managed to keep from telling you until recently?"
"Actually, considering the timing, it would have been more like six and a half months." He shrugs. "Irrelevant now, I suppose. She... well, generally, I believe, the way the father finds out in a case such as this is when the mother informs him, or sues for child support. She never did either."
Meligot nods. "Then... what happened? Evidently you have custody of her now."
"Last month, when Harper and I returned from Italy after our birthday vacation, I received a letter from my uncle, Richard."
He's quiet, for a moment, choosing his words.
"It would appear that either enough has crossed your desk in the weeks since that you've forgotten, or Harper was relatively vague when explaining why we were about to disappear again after already having been gone a week. Virginie had been in a car accident, rather severe, and was not projected to live without medical support. And she'd left me 'something in her will' that my uncle was unwilling to describe in his letter."
Meligot winces. "I see. All right." She sighs and leans back in her chair. "So you've got a little girl, and you do seem happy with her. That's done. My question is-- what is she doing here, Marcus? I understand that your work is here, but-- for god's sake, Harper has a point. There's Alden, and-- people of the like. There aren't many entirely sane role models in this place."
He fixes her with a Look.
"She's my blood, Meligot," he says, far more calmly. "My blood, my magic, if not my element. She needs me at least as much as this place does, and I'm not particularly willing to abandon either one. And for every Alden, there's a Finn. For every Dextra, an Isaac. Theirn is here, and you. And her parents, which is by far more important."
He's quiet, for a moment, one hand stealing up to fiddle with a new chain around his neck.
"There wasn't a chance in hell I was going to leave her to her grandparents' tender care," he says, perfectly calmly, in an almost terrifyingly flat voice.
Meligot thinks she understands. Marcus' files were erased, but she has other ways to access information, and from what she has been able to garner, grandparents are not kind creatures in Marcus' experience.
"All right," she says. "Just as long as you understand what you're getting into. I-- do admire you for it, you know." Meligot smiles slightly. "And she's a beautiful girl."
Meligot will find, some day, if she ever asks about Emilie's grandparents, just how wrong she is, when she thinks she understands.
"I know very well what I've gone and done to myself," he murmurs, sounding more tired now than anything else. Three-year-olds do not quite manage to have steady sleeping schedules all that often. "She is, yes. Thank you."
"Do you want me to take some of your paperwork on for you?" Meligot asks. "At least until you've adjusted? I've been managing this past week all right."
He shakes his head. "No, I'm sure I'll manage it fine, once I can sit down and just... get to work. It's a question, at the moment, of figuring out who's taking care of Emilie when. I may have to set up a nook in my office for her, I've not decided yet."
"I'm sure I can find a few agents off-mission who could benefit from the company of a three-year-old," Meligot adds. "And Elisabeth might be able to take her from time to time. We'll work something out. In the meantime, if you do get overwhelmed, you really can give me some of your work."
Marcus nods, and gives her a smile. "Thank you, my dear," he murmurs.
She returns it. "Always glad to help out. Now go spend time with your daughter."
"Family," he corrects her, lightly, as he pushes himself back up to his feet. "My family."
"Your family, then." She turns back to her computer. "You should probably make a general announcement, and if you like I can have a word with Alden and the like, if I suspect they might be a bit odd about a small child about the place."
"You may have a point," he murmurs, dryly, before stepping through her door.
"Have fun!" Meligot calls after him, and shakes her head and gets back to work. Totally mad.
Just another day in the life, really.
Harper sticks his head inside. "Meligot," he says cheerfully, though he looks a little tired. "Someone you ought to meet."
"Oh?" Meligot says, leaning back in her chair. "Nice to see you again, Harper. Who is it, then?"
"'It,'" Marcus' voice can be heard to say, as he pushes Harper into the room, 'would be my daughter, Emilie."
Who is, as it happens, in his arms right now, nibbling on her lower lip, looking at Meligot with a mixture of curiosity and fear.
Meligot blinks.
Marcus did a good job, she thinks distantly. It's difficult to actually shock her, but she's managed it.
"Hello, Emilie," she says, quite composedly, and gives the little girl a smile.
Harper reaches over, brushing Emilie's hair lightly, and she looks a little less frightened, and ventures a wave.
"Emilie," Marcus murmurs gently, "this is your aunt Meligot."
Meligot takes that as her cue to slip off her chair onto the floor to reach about eye-level with Emilie, and hold out a hand to the little girl. "Aunt Mabit," she says firmly. "It's lovely to have you here, Emilie."
Emilie squirms a little, and Marcus lets her down. She stares at Meligot for a bit, and then says, "You have funny socks."
Meligot bursts out laughing, liking this girl immediately. "I do," she agrees. "They're rainbow socks, Emilie, and your--" she hesitates a fraction of a second, unsure what to call Harper to this girl-- "Harper" she settles for, "gave them to me, because he knows I like having funny socks."
Marcus smirks, just a little, leaning back against the wall next to the door, one hand snaking out to catch Harper's wrist and pull him closer.
Emilie glances up at Harper, briefly, before looking back at Meligot and nodding. "Daddy's good at knowing what people like," she agrees.
Harper goes faintly red, and stares at the top of Emilie's head with something like fond embarrassment.
Meligot manages to keep from smirking, because there's a small child in the room-- which reminds her of something. "How old are you, Emilie?"
"Three," she replies in a piping voice, holding up three fingers, accurately.
Behind her, somewhat if not entirely unobtrusively, Marcus' arm has slipped around Harper's waist, hand holding one of his loosely.
"Three is a very good age," Meligot tells her. "And when's your birthday?"
"Stepember fifth," she fumbles. Close, though.
Darn, Meligot thinks, and is a little surprised at herself. She has an interdimensional organisation to help run, and she can't afford to be thinking about throwing birthday parties for little girls, especially if said little girl's fathers are helping run said organisation. It's just-- Meligot loves children, and the little she's seen of Emilie has her quite charmed. (Emilie's such a very nice name, in fact, and there's a name in the French quite like--)
"Then you'll have lots of time before your fourth birthday to meet all your of your other aunts and uncles," she tells Emilie cheerfully.
"We thought you ought to be the first one to be surprised," Harper says. "Personally I'm looking forward to Alden's face." He ruffles Emilie's hair.
Emilie looks up at him, something between confusion and concern remarkably evident on her face.
Marcus stifles a laugh against Harper's shoulder, reaching down to smoothe her hair once Harper's done messing it.
"Don't mind them," Meligot tells Emilie. "Everyone will love you." And that's not a lie-- most everyone will, and if she suspects they won't, well-- she'll just have to have little talks with people like Alden and perhaps Juilliard beforehand. Emilie will be welcome here.
Emilie does not quite look entirely reassured, and after a brief moment Marcus pulls away from Harper to slide down the wall, pulling her into his lap once he's seated. "She's
right, my dearest," he murmurs. "Your aunts and uncles here will like you very much indeed."
"Theirn," Harper says, "will make a French cuisine expert of you, and Finn will show you around the garden if I can't. He takes care of the roses."
Marcus almost says something, sharply, glancing up at Harper, before cutting himself off before he begins and merely kissing Emilie's hair, lightly, one hand smoothing over her back gently.
Harper winces and looks away, uncertainty flickering over his face. Up until this point, Meligot was thinking they made a neat little picture; the two men and their daughter.
Quickly, though, Marcus reaches up and catches his hand, pressing a kiss to Harper's knuckles before leaning back against the wall more comfortably, resettling Emilie against his chest.
"Yes," Meligot says slowly, and gives them both a thoughtful look. "I have some... work-related things to catch up on with the two of you, so perhaps one of you can show Emilie around headquarters, and one of you can stay to talk for a short while?"
"I can stay," Harper says quietly, glancing down at Marcus. "You'd best be the one making explanations anyway."
"Daddy?" Emilie turns her head, looking up at Harper, eyes wide. "But you said you were gonna show me the garden!"
Marcus smiles at Harper, ruefully, a what are you going to do? type of look.
Harper shoots him a slightly panicked look. Animals are a lot simpler than little girls.
"There are a lot of rooms at headquarters, Emilie," Meligot cuts in diplomatically. "I need to speak with one of your daddies, so how about you decide if you want to see the garden right now or not. If you do, I'll have to speak with Marcus for a little while; if not, you'll have to wait and see the garden later."
Emilie pushes herself up to her feet. Unfortunately, this requires stepping on Marcus. Fortunately for him, she manages to miss anything vital, as she tugs at Harper's hand. "But you said!"
Marcus winces, just slightly.
"Then I'll take you to the garden," Harper says, kneeling down in front of her. "We were just asking if you wanted to go now or later. I will take you, far more than one time."
"Marcus can catch up with you in the garden," Meligot adds. "I only need him for a few minutes."
"Go ahead," Marcus urges, smiling up at Harper crookedly. "She's right, I'll catch up with you both soon, I'm sure. And then we can go get lunch."
Harper shoots him an unreadable look and scoops Emilie up into his arms. "Shall we to the garden, then?" he asks her, giving her a soft smile.
She nods, wrapping her arms around Harper's neck, head resting on his shoulder.
Marcus mouths something to him, silently, one hand obscuring the action enough that Meligot can't read it.
Harper gives him a half-nod, since his arms are otherwised occupied, and says, "Say goodbye to Aunt Mabit for now, Emilie."
Shyly, the three-year-old turns her head to look at Meligot, before grinning quickly and hiding her face against Harper's shirt.
Meligot grins back, though the little girl can't see it. "Wonderful meeting you, Emilie," she says, and nods to Harper. "Thanks for bringing her in. Go show her the gardens."
"So," Meligot says, when the door is shut, and gets back into her chair, crossing her arms. "Explain."
Marcus seems disinclined to bother moving from what is apparently a comfortable seat on the floor. "Tell me where to start," he suggests.
"Anywhere you like," Meligot offers. She's not really angry-- not by far, because Emilie is a really charming little girl-- but this is a little crazy. "Maybe you should start with the part where you suddenly have a three-year-old daughter."
"Ah yes. That one was something of a surprise to me, as well."
He considers, for a moment, and then shrugs, closing his eyes as he stretches his legs out in front of him, lacing his fingers together over his stomach.
"Very soon after I'd finally regained use of my arm and hand," he begins, "I met a lovely woman in her early thirties by the name of Virginie. She was a pastry chef, in town. It was a brief, if generally satisfying affair, and then she disappeared off to the city, with a promotion. A bit disappointing, to be sure, but I was distracted almost immediately by other concerns, and then various medical issues surrounding my grandfather's impending and eventual death. I didn't hear anything from her, and eventually forgot that I ought to wish to."
"Fastforward nine months, and she had your child," Meligot murmurs. "I take it she somehow managed to keep from telling you until recently?"
"Actually, considering the timing, it would have been more like six and a half months." He shrugs. "Irrelevant now, I suppose. She... well, generally, I believe, the way the father finds out in a case such as this is when the mother informs him, or sues for child support. She never did either."
Meligot nods. "Then... what happened? Evidently you have custody of her now."
"Last month, when Harper and I returned from Italy after our birthday vacation, I received a letter from my uncle, Richard."
He's quiet, for a moment, choosing his words.
"It would appear that either enough has crossed your desk in the weeks since that you've forgotten, or Harper was relatively vague when explaining why we were about to disappear again after already having been gone a week. Virginie had been in a car accident, rather severe, and was not projected to live without medical support. And she'd left me 'something in her will' that my uncle was unwilling to describe in his letter."
Meligot winces. "I see. All right." She sighs and leans back in her chair. "So you've got a little girl, and you do seem happy with her. That's done. My question is-- what is she doing here, Marcus? I understand that your work is here, but-- for god's sake, Harper has a point. There's Alden, and-- people of the like. There aren't many entirely sane role models in this place."
He fixes her with a Look.
"She's my blood, Meligot," he says, far more calmly. "My blood, my magic, if not my element. She needs me at least as much as this place does, and I'm not particularly willing to abandon either one. And for every Alden, there's a Finn. For every Dextra, an Isaac. Theirn is here, and you. And her parents, which is by far more important."
He's quiet, for a moment, one hand stealing up to fiddle with a new chain around his neck.
"There wasn't a chance in hell I was going to leave her to her grandparents' tender care," he says, perfectly calmly, in an almost terrifyingly flat voice.
Meligot thinks she understands. Marcus' files were erased, but she has other ways to access information, and from what she has been able to garner, grandparents are not kind creatures in Marcus' experience.
"All right," she says. "Just as long as you understand what you're getting into. I-- do admire you for it, you know." Meligot smiles slightly. "And she's a beautiful girl."
Meligot will find, some day, if she ever asks about Emilie's grandparents, just how wrong she is, when she thinks she understands.
"I know very well what I've gone and done to myself," he murmurs, sounding more tired now than anything else. Three-year-olds do not quite manage to have steady sleeping schedules all that often. "She is, yes. Thank you."
"Do you want me to take some of your paperwork on for you?" Meligot asks. "At least until you've adjusted? I've been managing this past week all right."
He shakes his head. "No, I'm sure I'll manage it fine, once I can sit down and just... get to work. It's a question, at the moment, of figuring out who's taking care of Emilie when. I may have to set up a nook in my office for her, I've not decided yet."
"I'm sure I can find a few agents off-mission who could benefit from the company of a three-year-old," Meligot adds. "And Elisabeth might be able to take her from time to time. We'll work something out. In the meantime, if you do get overwhelmed, you really can give me some of your work."
Marcus nods, and gives her a smile. "Thank you, my dear," he murmurs.
She returns it. "Always glad to help out. Now go spend time with your daughter."
"Family," he corrects her, lightly, as he pushes himself back up to his feet. "My family."
"Your family, then." She turns back to her computer. "You should probably make a general announcement, and if you like I can have a word with Alden and the like, if I suspect they might be a bit odd about a small child about the place."
"You may have a point," he murmurs, dryly, before stepping through her door.
"Have fun!" Meligot calls after him, and shakes her head and gets back to work. Totally mad.
Just another day in the life, really.