Jealousy
Rating: PG
Fandom: Runaways
Characters: Frank and Leslie Dean, Karolina Dean
Disclaimer: This is me owning nothing.
Summary: There's nothing worse than being jealous of a kid.
Sometimes Leslie got jealous. More and more often, lately, she found the object of her jealousy in the form of her own daughter.
Sure, it had been, at least half-way, a marriage of convenience, but the point stood that Frank was her husband and should spend more time with her.
It doesn’t help that she’s sitting alone at home while her husband and her child are off on some adventure in the woods, picking through foliage that Frank knows nothing about, and will come home with stories and treasures and she gets to sit at the table and flip through some asinine magazine she’s read a thousand times already.
Leslie frowns and realizes she hasn’t turned a page in fifteen minutes. She’s just been staring at the pictures and running uncomprehending eyes over the captions.
‘Frank and Leslie Dean,’ one reads. ‘Their daughter, Karolina,’ says another. ‘The family together at LAX.’ ‘Frank and his daughter.’ ‘Frank and Karolina on set.’ ‘Frank and Karolina at an outdoor café.’
For some odd reason, the pictures are wet. She’s not crying, she tells herself. It’s stupid to be jealous of a kid neither of them had wanted until she started actually breathing. It’s just not fair.
The door opens and Leslie wipes away the not-tears.
Karolina dashes over to her nd deposites leaves and mushrooms and pinecones and flowers and dirt on the table in front of her, babbling excitedly. Leslie pats her daughter’s head and looks at her husband.
He smiles sheepishly through the enchanted look on his face. He slides a field guid onto the bookshelf next to him.
The surge of jealousy dies, though, and she just can’t help but smile, when Karolina thrusts a gigantic flower at her and proudly proclaims, "Daddy said you liked yellow best and I picked that just for you!"
Fandom: Runaways
Characters: Frank and Leslie Dean, Karolina Dean
Disclaimer: This is me owning nothing.
Summary: There's nothing worse than being jealous of a kid.
Sometimes Leslie got jealous. More and more often, lately, she found the object of her jealousy in the form of her own daughter.
Sure, it had been, at least half-way, a marriage of convenience, but the point stood that Frank was her husband and should spend more time with her.
It doesn’t help that she’s sitting alone at home while her husband and her child are off on some adventure in the woods, picking through foliage that Frank knows nothing about, and will come home with stories and treasures and she gets to sit at the table and flip through some asinine magazine she’s read a thousand times already.
Leslie frowns and realizes she hasn’t turned a page in fifteen minutes. She’s just been staring at the pictures and running uncomprehending eyes over the captions.
‘Frank and Leslie Dean,’ one reads. ‘Their daughter, Karolina,’ says another. ‘The family together at LAX.’ ‘Frank and his daughter.’ ‘Frank and Karolina on set.’ ‘Frank and Karolina at an outdoor café.’
For some odd reason, the pictures are wet. She’s not crying, she tells herself. It’s stupid to be jealous of a kid neither of them had wanted until she started actually breathing. It’s just not fair.
The door opens and Leslie wipes away the not-tears.
Karolina dashes over to her nd deposites leaves and mushrooms and pinecones and flowers and dirt on the table in front of her, babbling excitedly. Leslie pats her daughter’s head and looks at her husband.
He smiles sheepishly through the enchanted look on his face. He slides a field guid onto the bookshelf next to him.
The surge of jealousy dies, though, and she just can’t help but smile, when Karolina thrusts a gigantic flower at her and proudly proclaims, "Daddy said you liked yellow best and I picked that just for you!"