Of Marriage and Divorce - Mohinder, Matt & Molly, PG
Title: Of Marriage and Divorce
Rating: PG
Characters: Mohinder, Matt, Molly
Spoilers: Season two.
Summary: Mohinder and Matt have an argument. Molly starts to worry. [500-ish words of crack.]
For heroes50, prompt 'father'. Table here.
And my kick for these guys just isn't going away. If you have an idea for a domestic scenario, feel free to suggest it; I'll write any that take my fancy.
Once in a while, an argument would break out. They weren't overly common as neither of them spent too much time in each other's way; especially in the morning, when both Matt and Mohinder had a tendency to get a little grouchy. Unfortunately, once in a while they would collide at exactly the wrong time, and there would be shouting. Lots of shouting.
This particular argument had started over nothing, in Mohinder's humble opinion. All he had done was to comment that Matt hadn't washed the dishes from the night before, and somehow that had been construed to be a personal attack on the man's competence as a everything from a father to a human being.
"That isn't what I meant, what I meant was that you-"
"It doesn't matter what you meant, I know what you meant!" cried Matt, his arms launched into what could only be described as a frustrated flail. "I can read your mind, remember?"
"Well stop it," he replied, "and that's nonsense because I wasn't even thinking anything. I meant nothing by it. Now that you mention it, however; a little more neatness around the house wouldn't go amiss."
"You," said Matt, his finger jabbing in the direction of Mohinder's nose, "are a total nightmare. Strutting off everywhere on your little missions then coming back here, getting all up in arms about a couple of plates. Who the hell do you think you are..."
Mohinder raised a hand, and Matt stopped abruptly.
Molly was in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest and her lips thinned. Matt spoke first, dropping the dish cloth to walk to her side. "What is it, honey?"
Mohinder stepped over to join them, crouching down in front of her to meet her gaze. "It's okay, Molly. We were just... discussing..."
"Are you going to get divorced?" she asked abruptly. There was a distinct wobble in her voice.
Mohinder glanced at Matt who ducked his head in a guilty grin. "...No, Molly. We can't get divorced."
"Why not?"
"Because we're not married," said Matt in his most helpful tone.
"Alice Tully said her parents got divorced because they were arguing over the dishes," said Molly, her chin up defiantly.
"Molly..." started Mohinder. He paused, put his hands on her shoulders, and sighed. "Matt and I, we're not married. It's not the same thing."
"Oh," she replied, nodding slowly. A second later, comprehension dawned in the shape of a huge grin on her face. "Does that mean you're going to get married?"
Matt promptly collapsed into a fit of giggles. "Well we're already bickering like an old married couple..."
Mohinder sighed. This could be a very long discussion. The look he shot Matt was so poisonous it would have stopped Sylar in his tracks.
Matt didn't stop giggling for a second.
Rating: PG
Characters: Mohinder, Matt, Molly
Spoilers: Season two.
Summary: Mohinder and Matt have an argument. Molly starts to worry. [500-ish words of crack.]
For heroes50, prompt 'father'. Table here.
And my kick for these guys just isn't going away. If you have an idea for a domestic scenario, feel free to suggest it; I'll write any that take my fancy.
Once in a while, an argument would break out. They weren't overly common as neither of them spent too much time in each other's way; especially in the morning, when both Matt and Mohinder had a tendency to get a little grouchy. Unfortunately, once in a while they would collide at exactly the wrong time, and there would be shouting. Lots of shouting.
This particular argument had started over nothing, in Mohinder's humble opinion. All he had done was to comment that Matt hadn't washed the dishes from the night before, and somehow that had been construed to be a personal attack on the man's competence as a everything from a father to a human being.
"That isn't what I meant, what I meant was that you-"
"It doesn't matter what you meant, I know what you meant!" cried Matt, his arms launched into what could only be described as a frustrated flail. "I can read your mind, remember?"
"Well stop it," he replied, "and that's nonsense because I wasn't even thinking anything. I meant nothing by it. Now that you mention it, however; a little more neatness around the house wouldn't go amiss."
"You," said Matt, his finger jabbing in the direction of Mohinder's nose, "are a total nightmare. Strutting off everywhere on your little missions then coming back here, getting all up in arms about a couple of plates. Who the hell do you think you are..."
Mohinder raised a hand, and Matt stopped abruptly.
Molly was in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest and her lips thinned. Matt spoke first, dropping the dish cloth to walk to her side. "What is it, honey?"
Mohinder stepped over to join them, crouching down in front of her to meet her gaze. "It's okay, Molly. We were just... discussing..."
"Are you going to get divorced?" she asked abruptly. There was a distinct wobble in her voice.
Mohinder glanced at Matt who ducked his head in a guilty grin. "...No, Molly. We can't get divorced."
"Why not?"
"Because we're not married," said Matt in his most helpful tone.
"Alice Tully said her parents got divorced because they were arguing over the dishes," said Molly, her chin up defiantly.
"Molly..." started Mohinder. He paused, put his hands on her shoulders, and sighed. "Matt and I, we're not married. It's not the same thing."
"Oh," she replied, nodding slowly. A second later, comprehension dawned in the shape of a huge grin on her face. "Does that mean you're going to get married?"
Matt promptly collapsed into a fit of giggles. "Well we're already bickering like an old married couple..."
Mohinder sighed. This could be a very long discussion. The look he shot Matt was so poisonous it would have stopped Sylar in his tracks.
Matt didn't stop giggling for a second.