(no subject)
Island life was something that was a hell of a lot slower than anything Jack had been used to back home but in some ways, in good ways, it was exactly what he needed. Back in Colorado or on some planet with a gate, Jack never managed to find the time to go fishing or watch the stars the way he could on the island. He wished that he had the telescope that was mounted on his roof back home; funny kind of irony to consider he had all the time in the world to stargaze and none of the tools, wasn't it?
Today was another lazy day but with one big difference: Rickon. Jack liked to "borrow" the kid from time to time mostly to amuse himself at playing dad again (no way was he a grandpa) and to give his poor mom a break. He figured the break made Susan pretty happy, considering the other kiddo was a hell of a lot quieter, and Rickon had a lot more patience for fishing than anyone else Jack knew.
He and the little guy were headed to their favorite fishing spot and in spite of Jack telling Rickon a million times not to touch the hooks swinging from their fishing poles he did anyway, slicing one little finger open. He expected tears, which he got, and something else that he didn't expect by a long shot.
"Thuck!"
Rickon had a little lisp and a quick translation from toddler-speak meant...oh for crying out loud where had the kid learned that?!
"Rick! Buddy! You can't talk like that! Where'd you learn that, huh?"
Jack busied himself with putting a bandage on the cut, glad it wasn't deep.
"Who the hell would teach a kid that?" Rickon repeated him, in his little voice, and Jack sighed. It was gonna be a long explanation to Susan, wasn't it?
Today was another lazy day but with one big difference: Rickon. Jack liked to "borrow" the kid from time to time mostly to amuse himself at playing dad again (no way was he a grandpa) and to give his poor mom a break. He figured the break made Susan pretty happy, considering the other kiddo was a hell of a lot quieter, and Rickon had a lot more patience for fishing than anyone else Jack knew.
He and the little guy were headed to their favorite fishing spot and in spite of Jack telling Rickon a million times not to touch the hooks swinging from their fishing poles he did anyway, slicing one little finger open. He expected tears, which he got, and something else that he didn't expect by a long shot.
"Thuck!"
Rickon had a little lisp and a quick translation from toddler-speak meant...oh for crying out loud where had the kid learned that?!
"Rick! Buddy! You can't talk like that! Where'd you learn that, huh?"
Jack busied himself with putting a bandage on the cut, glad it wasn't deep.
"Who the hell would teach a kid that?" Rickon repeated him, in his little voice, and Jack sighed. It was gonna be a long explanation to Susan, wasn't it?