Toy Soldiers - Gen!fic, Hoosier!centric (Flashfic)
Title: Toy Soldiers
Author: skylilies
Pairing: Gen!fic; Hoosier!centric, Leckie/Vera
Fandom: The Pacific
Word Count: 650
Genre: gen/humor
Rating: pg
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, just my interpretations of them. Based on fictionalized representations, no disrespect is intended.
Teaser: Hoosier and Chuckler play babysitter for a night.
Notes: because anyone with kids is always adorable, and especially Hoosier and Chuckler, okay. for awoken.
Bill stubs out the cigarette on one of Vera’s tea cups and says, “I don’t understand little kids.”
Lew starts to laugh, his voice muffled by the fingers stretching out his mouth, the baby in his lap fascinated by his face and pulling hard at his cheeks. Bill almost expects him to start cooing, or some other shit, the way Chuckler’s eyes are all lit up and about ready to start exploding glitter. He snorts.
Lucky’s other boy, David, looks at him and says “Uncle Bill, can we play the big day?”
“What?” Bill replies. He gives Chuckler a look - he should know that he didn’t sign up for this, no matter how exhausted Lucky and Vera had looked, no matter how Bob had turned those eyes on him all tired and grateful when he had said ‘Shit, just get the hell out of here for a bit, you’re ruining my mood.’ David shoves a toy soldier underneath his nose and shouts, “I want to play soldiers!”
Bill winces at the rise in volume and takes the toy as a form of appeasement. Lew shifts the baby to his other shoulder and leans forward in his seat, everything in his posture saying ‘I want to watch this.’ “Okay,” Bill says, “what are they going to do?”
David just looks at him like this is the dumbest thing he’s ever heard. “Fight wars, like Daddy did!”
The soldier’s helmet is chipping paint, and Bill rubs a finger over it. You have to keep your helmet on in the battlefield, it‘s good sense, even when you’re made of plastic. David is suddenly up and running again, his body disappearing around the corner. The baby is gurgling up on Lew’s shoulder, and he’s patting his back and making little soothing noises until toddler feet come thumping across the floor again and David holds up a comic book in Bill’s face. “See,” he shrieks in satisfaction, and goes off in a tumble of words that Bill can’t make out.
He’s busy looking at the comic, John Basilone’s face in bright cartoon colors looking back at him. Christ, he thinks. Chuckler says, “I think he wants you to read to him,” and David pushes into his lap and settles down, solid and determined. Bill takes the comic from his tiny hands and regards the title, “Manila John Moves Out.”
When Vera and Bob come home, the baby is asleep and drooling on Lew’s chest, and the living room has turned into a little battlefield of toy soldiers and bread crumbs from a late night snack gone horribly messy. Perched upright on the couch, David is doing his best to keep his eyes open even as his body droops from exhaustion, and Bill is sprawled out on the floor, hands behind his head. When Lucky walks in the door he regards him with one open eye, and says, “About damn time.”
Vera collects her oldest boy from the couch and gathers him up in a sleepy bundle. “I hope they didn’t give you too much trouble.” Lucky has picked up the abandoned comic, and the look coming over his face is something between amusement and regret, and a faraway look that Bill recognizes all too well. He pushes himself off the floor, nudges past Bob and ruffles David’s hair. “They were great,” he says. “You have a couple of great kids.”
Lucky and Vera both smile, sharing one of those looks that only those really sappy couples seem to be able to muster up, and at the door when they’re saying goodbye a few minutes later, the baby propped up on Lucky’s shoulder and David finally asleep in Vera’s arms, they share another glance that lingers in Bill’s vision even as he turns away. Lew’s shoulder brushes against his, and he says, “He’s going to be okay, isn’t he?”
“Yeah,” Bill says. “He’s gonna be okay.”
Author: skylilies
Pairing: Gen!fic; Hoosier!centric, Leckie/Vera
Fandom: The Pacific
Word Count: 650
Genre: gen/humor
Rating: pg
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, just my interpretations of them. Based on fictionalized representations, no disrespect is intended.
Teaser: Hoosier and Chuckler play babysitter for a night.
Notes: because anyone with kids is always adorable, and especially Hoosier and Chuckler, okay. for awoken.
Bill stubs out the cigarette on one of Vera’s tea cups and says, “I don’t understand little kids.”
Lew starts to laugh, his voice muffled by the fingers stretching out his mouth, the baby in his lap fascinated by his face and pulling hard at his cheeks. Bill almost expects him to start cooing, or some other shit, the way Chuckler’s eyes are all lit up and about ready to start exploding glitter. He snorts.
Lucky’s other boy, David, looks at him and says “Uncle Bill, can we play the big day?”
“What?” Bill replies. He gives Chuckler a look - he should know that he didn’t sign up for this, no matter how exhausted Lucky and Vera had looked, no matter how Bob had turned those eyes on him all tired and grateful when he had said ‘Shit, just get the hell out of here for a bit, you’re ruining my mood.’ David shoves a toy soldier underneath his nose and shouts, “I want to play soldiers!”
Bill winces at the rise in volume and takes the toy as a form of appeasement. Lew shifts the baby to his other shoulder and leans forward in his seat, everything in his posture saying ‘I want to watch this.’ “Okay,” Bill says, “what are they going to do?”
David just looks at him like this is the dumbest thing he’s ever heard. “Fight wars, like Daddy did!”
The soldier’s helmet is chipping paint, and Bill rubs a finger over it. You have to keep your helmet on in the battlefield, it‘s good sense, even when you’re made of plastic. David is suddenly up and running again, his body disappearing around the corner. The baby is gurgling up on Lew’s shoulder, and he’s patting his back and making little soothing noises until toddler feet come thumping across the floor again and David holds up a comic book in Bill’s face. “See,” he shrieks in satisfaction, and goes off in a tumble of words that Bill can’t make out.
He’s busy looking at the comic, John Basilone’s face in bright cartoon colors looking back at him. Christ, he thinks. Chuckler says, “I think he wants you to read to him,” and David pushes into his lap and settles down, solid and determined. Bill takes the comic from his tiny hands and regards the title, “Manila John Moves Out.”
When Vera and Bob come home, the baby is asleep and drooling on Lew’s chest, and the living room has turned into a little battlefield of toy soldiers and bread crumbs from a late night snack gone horribly messy. Perched upright on the couch, David is doing his best to keep his eyes open even as his body droops from exhaustion, and Bill is sprawled out on the floor, hands behind his head. When Lucky walks in the door he regards him with one open eye, and says, “About damn time.”
Vera collects her oldest boy from the couch and gathers him up in a sleepy bundle. “I hope they didn’t give you too much trouble.” Lucky has picked up the abandoned comic, and the look coming over his face is something between amusement and regret, and a faraway look that Bill recognizes all too well. He pushes himself off the floor, nudges past Bob and ruffles David’s hair. “They were great,” he says. “You have a couple of great kids.”
Lucky and Vera both smile, sharing one of those looks that only those really sappy couples seem to be able to muster up, and at the door when they’re saying goodbye a few minutes later, the baby propped up on Lucky’s shoulder and David finally asleep in Vera’s arms, they share another glance that lingers in Bill’s vision even as he turns away. Lew’s shoulder brushes against his, and he says, “He’s going to be okay, isn’t he?”
“Yeah,” Bill says. “He’s gonna be okay.”