Fic: An Afternoon
Title: An Afternoon
Author: mallardeer
Pairing: Brittany/Santana
Rating: G
Spoilers: None, future fic
Summary: It’s springtime in New York when Henry Lopez turns four, and much like his mother at that age, his favorite thing is to feed the ducks.
Author's Note: I'm obsessed with feeding ducks, I guess. I've been trying to imagine Britt and Santana's life together after high school for a while, and then... This just happened. Also, I suck at titles so hard.
It’s springtime in New York when Henry Lopez turns four, and much like his mother at that age, his favorite thing is to feed the ducks. For the past few weeks, as long as it’s nice, Brittany has taken him to Central Park after pre-school, because the way his brown eyes light up when the ducks eat his bread is one of her favorite things in the world. Today it’s Friday, and it’s warmer than it’s been all week, and when Henry sees her in the doorway of his classroom, he bolts for her, flinging his arms around her legs.
“Ducks?” he asks simply, looking up at her with expectant eyes.
She laughs and smooths his messy hair back from his forehead. “Of course.”
He grins and runs to get his things, and Brittany watches as he says goodbye to his friends before attaching himself to her hand. “Did you bring the bread? Do we need to buy some? Can I get a hot dog?” he babbles, as they leave the building, and Brittany laughs to hear him, more talkative than she or Santana ever had been at his age.
“I have the bread, boy,” she assures him, and he grins.
Henry holds her hand tightly, swinging their arms between them as they walk the blocks uptown, and just keeps talking, a steady stream of words that Brittany can only half decipher. Her son lives in his own world, which she can understand, and as long as he knows she’s listening, he doesn’t mind if she doesn’t say anything. Santana still tries to figure him out, watching him quizzically as he rattles on at the dinner table, but Brittany just smiles and lets him talk.
When they get to the park, he tries to detach himself, but she holds him firmly. “Henry,” she scolds gently, and he stops pulling.
“Hurry up, Mom,” he begs, and she laughs and scoops him up.
“The ducks aren’t going anywhere,” she promises, and he rolls his eyes, but then grins at her, so like his mother that she almost gasps. Sometimes Henry is just like her; sometimes he is Santana in miniature, and both of them still marvel at this little man who’s been entrusted to their care.
He kisses her face, and she laughs and hugs him close, and she carries him to the pond. When he sees the ducks, he yells and tries to scramble out of her arms, but she’s used to this, so she holds him fast. “Henry,” she says, again reining him in with just the use of his name.
“Mom,” he returns calmly, and she laughs at him, which makes him giggle and kiss her.
Finally, she sets him down and hands him a piece of bread, and he crouches by the edge of the pond. She sits a little ways behind him, because watching how happy the ducks make her small son is quite possibly the best thing she gets to do every day. He trots back and forth between her and the pond for more bread, and once he stops to sit in her lap and tell her he loves her, and Brittany’s heart almost breaks because it can’t withstand the force of sweetness that is Henry Gabriel Lopez.
There’s a family of ducklings, but they’re all clustered close to two little girls who are throwing old bread to them, and Henry badly wants the ducklings to come closer to him, but he knows better than to try to approach them. So he sighs and feeds the bigger ducks, and one handsome drake takes a shine to him, watching his movements and following him when he goes back to Brittany for more bread. “That one’s really pretty, Mom,” he tells her. “Look at all the colors on his head.”
“Mmm,” she agrees, brushing his soft hair off his forehead. “Last piece, Hank,” she warns, and he frowns, but goes to share the last of his offering with the ducks.
Once the big drake has gobbled the last piece, he turns from the pond, and Brittany sees the tears forming, but all of a sudden, his face lights up. At first Brittany is merely relieved, because when Henry cries these days, only Santana or feeding the ducks can make him stop, but then she follows his gaze and suddenly knows her expression much match her son’s. “Mama!” he yells, tearing across the grass, and there’s Santana, dressed in jeans and an old Columbia t-shirt, a fond smile on her face. She kneels and holds out her arms.
Henry barrels into her, and he’s small for his age, but the force still almost knocks her backwards. She holds him close, and he nestles his head against her neck, as she kisses his hair. “I thought I’d find you guys here,” she says, smiling over his head at her wife.
“Why aren’t you at work?” Henry asks.
“I took the afternoon off to spend with my two favorite people,” she tells him, and he grins and kisses her.
“Can we get a hot dog?” he asks, as she stands up.
“Sure, m’ijo, anything you like today,” she decides, and Brittany loves the delight in his eyes.
Santana’s been working overtime on an important case for the past few weeks, and Henry’s missed her awfully. So has Brittany. But she’s here now, lifting their son onto her shoulders and smiling that special smile she only shares with Brittany, and suddenly, never has an afternoon been more perfect.
Author: mallardeer
Pairing: Brittany/Santana
Rating: G
Spoilers: None, future fic
Summary: It’s springtime in New York when Henry Lopez turns four, and much like his mother at that age, his favorite thing is to feed the ducks.
Author's Note: I'm obsessed with feeding ducks, I guess. I've been trying to imagine Britt and Santana's life together after high school for a while, and then... This just happened. Also, I suck at titles so hard.
It’s springtime in New York when Henry Lopez turns four, and much like his mother at that age, his favorite thing is to feed the ducks. For the past few weeks, as long as it’s nice, Brittany has taken him to Central Park after pre-school, because the way his brown eyes light up when the ducks eat his bread is one of her favorite things in the world. Today it’s Friday, and it’s warmer than it’s been all week, and when Henry sees her in the doorway of his classroom, he bolts for her, flinging his arms around her legs.
“Ducks?” he asks simply, looking up at her with expectant eyes.
She laughs and smooths his messy hair back from his forehead. “Of course.”
He grins and runs to get his things, and Brittany watches as he says goodbye to his friends before attaching himself to her hand. “Did you bring the bread? Do we need to buy some? Can I get a hot dog?” he babbles, as they leave the building, and Brittany laughs to hear him, more talkative than she or Santana ever had been at his age.
“I have the bread, boy,” she assures him, and he grins.
Henry holds her hand tightly, swinging their arms between them as they walk the blocks uptown, and just keeps talking, a steady stream of words that Brittany can only half decipher. Her son lives in his own world, which she can understand, and as long as he knows she’s listening, he doesn’t mind if she doesn’t say anything. Santana still tries to figure him out, watching him quizzically as he rattles on at the dinner table, but Brittany just smiles and lets him talk.
When they get to the park, he tries to detach himself, but she holds him firmly. “Henry,” she scolds gently, and he stops pulling.
“Hurry up, Mom,” he begs, and she laughs and scoops him up.
“The ducks aren’t going anywhere,” she promises, and he rolls his eyes, but then grins at her, so like his mother that she almost gasps. Sometimes Henry is just like her; sometimes he is Santana in miniature, and both of them still marvel at this little man who’s been entrusted to their care.
He kisses her face, and she laughs and hugs him close, and she carries him to the pond. When he sees the ducks, he yells and tries to scramble out of her arms, but she’s used to this, so she holds him fast. “Henry,” she says, again reining him in with just the use of his name.
“Mom,” he returns calmly, and she laughs at him, which makes him giggle and kiss her.
Finally, she sets him down and hands him a piece of bread, and he crouches by the edge of the pond. She sits a little ways behind him, because watching how happy the ducks make her small son is quite possibly the best thing she gets to do every day. He trots back and forth between her and the pond for more bread, and once he stops to sit in her lap and tell her he loves her, and Brittany’s heart almost breaks because it can’t withstand the force of sweetness that is Henry Gabriel Lopez.
There’s a family of ducklings, but they’re all clustered close to two little girls who are throwing old bread to them, and Henry badly wants the ducklings to come closer to him, but he knows better than to try to approach them. So he sighs and feeds the bigger ducks, and one handsome drake takes a shine to him, watching his movements and following him when he goes back to Brittany for more bread. “That one’s really pretty, Mom,” he tells her. “Look at all the colors on his head.”
“Mmm,” she agrees, brushing his soft hair off his forehead. “Last piece, Hank,” she warns, and he frowns, but goes to share the last of his offering with the ducks.
Once the big drake has gobbled the last piece, he turns from the pond, and Brittany sees the tears forming, but all of a sudden, his face lights up. At first Brittany is merely relieved, because when Henry cries these days, only Santana or feeding the ducks can make him stop, but then she follows his gaze and suddenly knows her expression much match her son’s. “Mama!” he yells, tearing across the grass, and there’s Santana, dressed in jeans and an old Columbia t-shirt, a fond smile on her face. She kneels and holds out her arms.
Henry barrels into her, and he’s small for his age, but the force still almost knocks her backwards. She holds him close, and he nestles his head against her neck, as she kisses his hair. “I thought I’d find you guys here,” she says, smiling over his head at her wife.
“Why aren’t you at work?” Henry asks.
“I took the afternoon off to spend with my two favorite people,” she tells him, and he grins and kisses her.
“Can we get a hot dog?” he asks, as she stands up.
“Sure, m’ijo, anything you like today,” she decides, and Brittany loves the delight in his eyes.
Santana’s been working overtime on an important case for the past few weeks, and Henry’s missed her awfully. So has Brittany. But she’s here now, lifting their son onto her shoulders and smiling that special smile she only shares with Brittany, and suddenly, never has an afternoon been more perfect.