Fic: Everyday Magic Wears A Red Coat
Title: Everyday Magic Wears a Red Coat(Part One)
Author: melliyna
Fandom: Big Damn AU of Doom Verse
Pairing: Crowley/Aziraphale (hints), Colbert/Fick, Nixon/Winters, Liebgott/Webster (and Ten/Jack, Speirs/Lipton and many others to come)
Rating: PG to R
Disclaimer: Not mine, borrowing. With profound apologies.
Warnings/Timeline/Spoilers: Crack. And probably spoilers all over the place for Good Omens, Band of Brothers, Generation Kill and Doctor Who (also Torchwood might sneak in)
A/N: Title is m_buggie's, credit for the creation of the AU is hers as well. Ella is a joint creation *grins* It's an introductory snippet, in which Nix apparently wants to muse. Through the medium of nurseries.
Lewis Nixon had never thought he'd be here, carefully decorating a nursey. Then again, he'd never really thought of himself as a parent of any kind. Back in the Cathy days, he'd farmed everything off to her and the interior decorators, thus palming off the deep seated feeling of panic that had followed him around with The Kid. They'd both been too young, but Cathy had grown up a hell of a lot faster than he had.
This time though, this time the little girl whose name they had not yet decided on (Dick, with a firm but determined smile had said that perhaps they should wait until they'd bought her home to make a definite decision, just to make sure the name suited her), was very much a planned decision. Right down to the room that was taking shape in front of his eyes.
Though it still boggled his mind the amount of Things such a small child apparently needed.
"Lew, can you hold on to this for a moment" Richard, who had sensibly taken over any part of the room construction that involved hammering things or power tools (in Nix's world, carpentary and DIY was something that happened to other people, mostly out of view), handed him a carefully wrapped package.
"Is this another one of those pink and frilly dresses from my side of the family that I'm going to be trecking to Goodwill?"
Dick just gave him one of those raised eyebrow looks of mingled affection and wry amusement and handed him the package. When he saw it was from Ron and Carwood, he opened it with a mental grin and only just bit back a remark about hitmen buying things for infant girls and the relative weirdness of such an image. When he opened the package and felt the soft pale red blanket against his fingers, he smiled at himself. Because he should have known that Speirs would have surprised him. And it was a beautiful blanket, as these things go. That was the other strange thing about becoming a parent properly - you suddenly started to become overly concerned about things like power points, the fact that your house was a death trap and blankets with proper cotton weave.
And a lovely little room, all soft buttercup yellows and mint greens. He'd actually learnt to see the lavendar and powder blue and the touch of pink almost red that went in to. And honestly, Lewis Nixon had never really paid attention to interior decorating. It was there, it looked good and/or it was expensive but he'd never had such happy and panicky feelings when looking at a room and the tiny bed/cradle/cot that sat in pride of place. Because underneath it all, it was all concerned with the little girl who was going to be lying in it.
Eleanor Isabella Margaret Nixon-Winters had not had the luckiest beginning in the world. One of the caseworkers would say that it was the of the more sickening cases of neglect she'd seen, even though the adoption papers had been signed before she was born...
Author: melliyna
Fandom: Big Damn AU of Doom Verse
Pairing: Crowley/Aziraphale (hints), Colbert/Fick, Nixon/Winters, Liebgott/Webster (and Ten/Jack, Speirs/Lipton and many others to come)
Rating: PG to R
Disclaimer: Not mine, borrowing. With profound apologies.
Warnings/Timeline/Spoilers: Crack. And probably spoilers all over the place for Good Omens, Band of Brothers, Generation Kill and Doctor Who (also Torchwood might sneak in)
A/N: Title is m_buggie's, credit for the creation of the AU is hers as well. Ella is a joint creation *grins* It's an introductory snippet, in which Nix apparently wants to muse. Through the medium of nurseries.
Lewis Nixon had never thought he'd be here, carefully decorating a nursey. Then again, he'd never really thought of himself as a parent of any kind. Back in the Cathy days, he'd farmed everything off to her and the interior decorators, thus palming off the deep seated feeling of panic that had followed him around with The Kid. They'd both been too young, but Cathy had grown up a hell of a lot faster than he had.
This time though, this time the little girl whose name they had not yet decided on (Dick, with a firm but determined smile had said that perhaps they should wait until they'd bought her home to make a definite decision, just to make sure the name suited her), was very much a planned decision. Right down to the room that was taking shape in front of his eyes.
Though it still boggled his mind the amount of Things such a small child apparently needed.
"Lew, can you hold on to this for a moment" Richard, who had sensibly taken over any part of the room construction that involved hammering things or power tools (in Nix's world, carpentary and DIY was something that happened to other people, mostly out of view), handed him a carefully wrapped package.
"Is this another one of those pink and frilly dresses from my side of the family that I'm going to be trecking to Goodwill?"
Dick just gave him one of those raised eyebrow looks of mingled affection and wry amusement and handed him the package. When he saw it was from Ron and Carwood, he opened it with a mental grin and only just bit back a remark about hitmen buying things for infant girls and the relative weirdness of such an image. When he opened the package and felt the soft pale red blanket against his fingers, he smiled at himself. Because he should have known that Speirs would have surprised him. And it was a beautiful blanket, as these things go. That was the other strange thing about becoming a parent properly - you suddenly started to become overly concerned about things like power points, the fact that your house was a death trap and blankets with proper cotton weave.
And a lovely little room, all soft buttercup yellows and mint greens. He'd actually learnt to see the lavendar and powder blue and the touch of pink almost red that went in to. And honestly, Lewis Nixon had never really paid attention to interior decorating. It was there, it looked good and/or it was expensive but he'd never had such happy and panicky feelings when looking at a room and the tiny bed/cradle/cot that sat in pride of place. Because underneath it all, it was all concerned with the little girl who was going to be lying in it.
Eleanor Isabella Margaret Nixon-Winters had not had the luckiest beginning in the world. One of the caseworkers would say that it was the of the more sickening cases of neglect she'd seen, even though the adoption papers had been signed before she was born...