summary: With Lena struggling in school after the loss of her mother Baz hires a tutor to manage Lena for him, you. Andrew 'Pope' Cody finds himself infatuated.
contains: MDNI! no use of y/n, eventual smut, mentions of violence, slight editing of canon
word count: 3.3k
Pope and Deran pull up to Smurf’s house and in the driveway is a car that the pair of them don’t recognize: a red punch buggy with bumper stickers adorning the trunk that read ‘Support Public Libraries,’ ‘University of San Diego English Department,’ and one of a worm driving a car in the shape of an apple.
“Whose car-” Deran starts
“No idea.” Pope cuts him off, slamming the door of Deran’s car. The pair of them walk inside where Craig and Baz sit on the sofa while Smurf stands in front of them with her hands on her hips.
“Where have you two been?” Smurf demands. Pope isn’t paying attention, his eye scoping the house drifting towards the pool deck outside.
“Who’s that?” Pope says, staring out. Lena sits with her back towards the house, her backpack at her feet. Beside her sits a young woman who he has never seen before. She’s talking to Lena while twirling a pencil in her right hand as her left points on the piece of paper on the table.
“What?” Baz turns in the direction Pope is staring, “oh, that's Lena’s tutor,”
“A tutor? We can’t help with fourth grade level homework?” Pope asks, almost irritated.
“Her teacher said she needs extra help with math, fractions or something, and recommended her.” Baz says
“Fractions,” Pope says
“Yeah,” Baz snaps, “you know how to do fractions?”
Pope stares back at Baz for a moment before turning his attention back at the pair outside. He quickly turns towards the door walking briskly.
“Oh, Jesus, Pope, leave her alone.” Baz’s voice fades into the background as Andrew walks towards the table.
“You know how to do fractions?” Pope says accusatorily, staring down at the young woman.
“Why are you giving out a pop quiz?” you quip back, smiling while sticking your pencil in your hair. Pope stares down at you, giving you nothing, “uh, yes, I can do fractions.” you say with less enthusiasm.
“Uncle Pope, this is my tutor, she helps me with my homework and stuff now… she’s really funny.”
“Blush,” you joke, leaning towards Lena, who giggles, “it’s nice to meet you,” you hold your hand out to Pope to shake but he only looks down at it and turns back to walk inside.
“Yeouch!” you say, turning to Lena and shaking your hand in the air like you just got burned, Lena laughs.
“Ok why don’t you show me what you got for number four,” you direct her attention back to the worksheet. Pope huffs as he enters the house,
“She’s weird,” Pope says.
“You think she’s weird?” Deran says, raising his eyebrows.
“Yes.” Pope says, definitively.
“I think she’s kinda cute, in a sexy-teacher kind of way.” Craig interjects.
“Enough about Lena’s fucking tutor!” Baz points at Craig, “But no fucking the tutor, ok? Lena likes her and she keeps her out of the way.” Craig puts his hands up defensively.
“Can we please get back to the plan, some of us have jobs,” Deran cuts in.
“Oh, right, you work really hard drinking for free at your own bar,” Baz snaps back.
“Enough.” Smurf cuts through before taking a deep breath in annoyance, “Baz, baby, what’s the plan?”
Pope sits in the driver's seat with Craig in shot-gun, the pair heading to Deran’s bar to drop off some cash that needs cleaning. They sit silently at a red light while Craig drums his fingers on the dashboard. A flash of red crosses the road in front of them and Pope's head immediately snaps to follow the car… is that? Yes, that was the car parked in the driveway the other day with Lena in the back seat, he was sure of it. As soon as the light turns green he cuts his truck across the middle and right lane, the drivers in the car he cuts off lean on their horn and gesture aggressively, but Andrew is locked onto the red buggy.
“What the fuck are you doing man!” Craig shouts, grabbing the handle above the window, “Pope, what the fuck? We’re supposed to be going to the bar!”
“I just need to check something out.”
“What?” Craig huffs, “what could you possibly need to ‘check out’ that requires cutting through an intersection?”
“Lena’s in that red car,” Pope nods forwards while Craig looks for the red car, finding it six cars ahead of them.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure she’s supposed to be, isn't that her babysitter?” Craig's voice is laced with annoyance.
“I just want to check on her,” Pope drives the truck through traffic, weaving between cars while Craig holds his face in his hands. They lose the car at a red light, the truck stuck behind two slow drivers.
“They’re probably just going to Baz’s, man.” Craig tries to persuade Pope to drop it but he is set, weaving through the traffic chasing the punch buggy. At the next light they make it behind the small red car in the next lane. Up close they can see that the windows are rolled down and hear the sound of music blaring, and… loud singing? Craig rolls his window down so they can hear better, and it is definitely singing.
As the light turns green the buggy pulls forward, Pope cuts around the car in front of him and stays just behind the red car in its blind spot. Before getting very far, and before Pope can fully take in their surroundings, they hit roadwork. A guy in a hard hat puts his hand out and points at the stop sign in his hand, the road past him merging into one lane. The truck is now right alongside the buggy and Craig turns slowly to Andrew.
“So what’s your plan now?” Craig says smugly.
“Just… shut up and face forward.” Pope snaps.
Craig smiles turning towards the window and Pope flicks his eyes in that direction. He looks at Lena in the backseat first, she’s sitting diagonally behind you wearing round, green sunglasses that are much too big for her, she had to hold them up as she sways along to the music. His eyes quickly snap to you in the front seat. You have on a pair of pink, sparkly hello kitty sunglasses that were clearly made for a child. You were dancing in the seat and banging on the steering wheel singing, or maybe shouting, along to the music. Before Pope could stop it from happening Craig reached his arm outside the window and banged on the side of the truck getting the attention of you and Lena.
Your head snaps left immediately, an annoyed, confrontational look on your face as you turn down the radio. It takes you a second to place them, but Lena calling out to them from the back confirmed your vague suspicion.
“Uncle Craig! Uncle Pope!” Lena shouts.
“Hey there!” Craig waves, smiling at Lena.
You push the small hello kitty sunglasses up into your hair.
“Hi! Sorry I didn’t realize who you guys were at first.” you say smiling.
“Craig,” he points at himself, “Pope,”
“Hi,” you give back a small wave, “where are you guys headed?”
“Errand-” Pope starts, looking straight ahead.
“Downtown.” Craig interjects at the same time.
You pause and look back and forth between them, “you’re, uh, headed the wrong way if you’re going downtown.” A small wave of confusion and amusement flashes across your face. Craig decides to spare his brother after a minute of teasing.
“Yeah, we’ve just got an errand to run this way first.” Craig smiles at her.
“How vague.” you smile back, looking past Craig to Pope. Before anyone else can say anything a honk cuts through from behind them. You look up to the guy in the hard hat, now pointing aggressively at the ‘slow’ side of the sign.
“Ok, ok,” you say to yourself, “say bye, Lena,” you shout while pulling the pink sunglasses onto your face.
“BYE!” Lena shouts, dragging out the word.
“Bye!” you joined in, pulling forward, and turning the music back up. Pope and Craig follow behind them in silence, as Craig stares at his brother.
“Man, what the fuck was that?” Craig says laughing.
“Nothing.” Pope quips.
“Come on, what is it? The babysitter?”
“She’s her tutor.” Pope quietly corrects.
“Oh, excuse me.” Craig teases, “I’m just surprised, she doesn’t seem like your type,”
“There’s nothing to be surprised about.” Pope says flatly, “I don’t care.”
“Don’t get me wrong, she's cute, she seems fun. She's, like, ten years younger than you, at least.” Craig says and Pope stares ahead silently.
“Fine, maybe I’ll invite her to a party at ours.” Craig seems to acquiesce.
“Good luck with Baz.” Pope says under his breath but Craig catches it.
“Oh, fuck Baz, he can’t actually tell me what to do.” A smile plays on his lips, “we’re all adults.”
“Whatever.” Andrew says.
When Pope pulls up to the compound a few days later he sees your red buggy park in front of the house. He finds the house empty so he looks outside the back doors to see Lena, perched comfortably in one of the large wicker chairs and you sitting on the ground in front of her. Lena focuses intently, trying to braid your hair, which is already adorned with colorful barrettes along your hairline. You hold up a blue book, reading out loud, “‘In the forest evening was already beginning to fall, and they walked in silence. Charles and Fortinbras gamboled on ahead…”
“What does ‘gamboled’ mean?” Lena says, drawing the word out.
“It means frolicking, or like, skipping around playfully,” you say.
“Uncle Pope!” Lena cuts her off, looking up brightly at her uncle as he steps out the back door. She yanks your hair back in an excited accident and you try to hide your wince so Lena wouldn’t notice.
“Hi,” he says, trying not to look at you, “what are you doing?”
“I’m practicing braiding hair,” Lena tugs on the almost braid, turning your head to the side, “doesn’t it look pretty?”
“Very nice,” Pope feigns interest in the braid but your tight lipped smile catches his eye instead.
“It feels like it looks amazing,” you tilt her head back to look up at Lena, “is it amazing?”
“Yes!” Lena smiles, proud of her work. You smile back at her warmly, a stark contrast to the straight line you gave Pope. Lena turns back to Pope with enthusiasm, “and we are reading A Wrinkle in Time. She says it’s one of the greatest books ever.”
“A kids book is one of the greatest books ever?” Pope looks pointedly at you.
“It is if you’re nine,” you reply boldly, “you think we should read Crime and Punishment next?” Pope shifts, he should have kept his mouth shut, You are clearly not someone he can go toe-to-toe with in terms of reading… or being educated at all.
“Did you have a snack after school?” Pope redirects towards Lena, he wants to undermine you, to prove to Lena that he loves her the most and knows her the best.
“We got ice cream!” Lena whispers.
“That was supposed to be a secret!” you mock whisper, whipping around towards Lena, lightly putting your hand on the girl's mouth as Lena giggles.
“Ice cream?” Pope says, disapprovingly.
“Are we in trouble?” you suppress a smile as you look up at Pope as Lena leans back in the chair laughing. You wink at Lena.
“No, I-” Pope stumbles over his words, “she just shouldn’t have so much sugar before dinner.” You’re taken aback by his stuttering yet earnest concern for his niece.
“Yeah, no, I hear you, won’t happen again.” You look up at him with sincerity. Pope looks between the two of you unsure of what to do now, so he simply turns around to walk back inside. Something about you makes him feel… nervous.
“Where we were,” he hears you say behind him, “oh, yes, ‘…This has been the most impossible, the most confusing afternoon of my life, she thought, yet I don’t feel confused or upset anymore; I only feel happy. Why?”
Your voice drifts into the afternoon as Pope walks further into the dark house. He’s never been particularly good at reading people but you presented a particular challenge. He couldn’t tell when you were joking. He couldn’t tell if you were making fun of him. Why were you so difficult?
That evening Pope is tucking Lena into her bed at Baz’s house. Baz had insisted that he needed a night out and there was no one to watch Lena. So, Pope is putting Lena to bed.
“I’m not tired yet,” Lena insists, “I don’t want to go to bed.”
“Well, that’s too bad because it’s bed time.” Pope says, pulling the covers over her.
“Can you read to me for a little while?” Lena pleads, “she left her book here so I could keep reading if I wanted.” She points to her dresser where the copy of A Wrinkle in Time sits. Upon closer inspection the book is in terrible shape: the spine is broken in multiple places, the pages seem to flutter apart on their own, and corner after corner is creased, marking where the pages were dog-earred.
“This is hers?” Pope asks, walking back towards the bed he tries to hide his horror at the state of the book.
“Yes, it’s from when she was a kid,” Lena says proudly. Grabbing the book from Pope's hands she flips through to the dog-earred page, “here,” she says, handing the book back to Pope.
“Uh, ok” Pope, feeling unsure of himself, starts, “The trees were lashed into a violent frenzy. Meg screamed and clutched at Calvin, and Mrs Which’s authoritative voice called out, ‘quiet, child!’ Did a shadow fall across the moon or did the moon simply go out, extinguished as abruptly and completely as a candle?”
“What does ‘abruptly’ mean?” Lena cuts in, “she always explains the words I don’t know.”
“It, uh, means fast.” Pope says. Ten minutes later Lena is asleep. Pope looks down at her and pulled the blanket up a little higher. Turning off the lamp beside her bed he walks out of Lena’s room book still in hand.
He sits in the living room holding the paperback in his hands, a small piece of the bottom corner of the cover is missing. Slowly, as if the book will fall apart in his hands he pulls the cover back. Written on the inside cover in thick, capital, green letter: your name. This really was your book from when you were a kid and from the state of it you probably really did think it was one of the greatest books ever. He turned slowly to the first page,
“It was a dark and stormy night.” Pope said out loud, under his breath. His eyes looked down at his watch: 9:01PM. Well, Baz wouldn’t be back for a while and he had nothing better to do. He sat on the couch reading, turning page after page after page. He looks up at the clock in the kitchen.1:37AM it flashed. Pope leaned back on the sofa flipping the page. It’s not like he was going to sleep anyway.
The next day Pope is anxious to see you, he wants to correct your previous encounter, he doesn’t want you to think he’s an asshole who hates fun and ice cream… and, since this morning at 4:49AM, A Wrinkle In Time. He heads over to the compound around the time you and Lena should be back from school.
It’s a warmer day so he’s not surprised to see the pair of you outside laying on your backs, knees hooked over the rim of the pool as you drag your feet in the cool water. You gesture up towards the sky, “it’s obviously a dragon, there’s the head right? Can you see the horn?” you point upward making small swooping motions with your finger.
“Yes!” Lena agrees “and there’s the wings!”
“Totally…” you pause for a moment, “what else do you see?” Pope tries to push down the budding feelings of inadequacy, of jealousy… jealousy of the easy way you can talk to Lena, to get her to engage, to play and be silly. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen Lena just be a kid.
Pope collects himself, more than anything he is happy that Lena is happy. He walks back towards the kitchen, pulling out the ham, cheese, and bread and starts carefully assembling sandwiches. Inside his head he grapples with the idea of wanting to get you alone. He wants to tell you what he thought of the book, but what could he say that you haven't already, probably, thought of? He wants to tell you that he found the inscription in your childhood handwriting… what? Endearing? Adorable?
That would be creepy. Most of all he wants to know what you think about it, he wants to hear you talk about something you love. He cuts each sandwich in diagonals, twice, making eight little triangles on a plate. As he pulls open the door Lena shoots up from where she was laying, you sit up slowly, resting on your elbows.
“Uncle Pope!” Lena runs over to hug him, he wraps his free hand around her shoulder.
“What’s that?” she says, tipping the plate down so she can get a better look.
“Thought you might be hungry,” He says.
“Yes!” Lena pulls Pope towards the table, helping him set the plate down, “sit with me,” she commands.
Pope glances over to the pool where you sit with your feet still in the water and a small smile on your face. You make being seem so easy, happy to let him have a moment with his niece in a way that makes his chest feel tight. With your green sunglasses on your face Pope can’t tell if you're smiling at him or Lena, but he makes his gesture anyway.
“There’s, um, enough for you too, if you want” Pope mumbles. your eyebrows raise.
“Come sit!” Lena says, her mouth full of sandwich.
“Here I come, here I come,” you smile, pulling yourself up and sitting on the other side of Lena, “Ooh triangles! Sandwiches taste the best that way,”
“No they don't, it tastes the same no matter how you cut it!” Lena laughs, her mouth full.
“Mmm, no they did a study on it, the sandwich people, and they said it’s best in triangles, it’s just a fact.” You say in mock seriousness. Pope looks down at his lap while a smile threatens his lips.
“Wait a minute,” you say, pushing her sunglasses into her hair. You grab Lena’s hand which holds a new ham and cheese triangle, “this one looks weird…” Pope head snaps up, he tries not to panic, glancing at the sandwich and then your concerned face.
“What?” he asks.
“Yeah, no, there’s something right there…” you quickly lean forward and bite the entire piece out of Lena’s hands. Lena’s jaw drops as she laughs. You chew the sandwich.
“Oh no it’s totally fine,” you say with your mouth full.
“That was mine!” Lena crosses her arms, trying to hide her smile.
“I’m sorry,” you say, passing her another piece, “here, you can have one of mine.” You pushed the plate towards Pope, raising your eyebrows. He picks one up tentatively.
“Please don’t try and bite this out of my hand.” Pope says, entirely earnest. You laugh.
“Oh, no, I won’t,” you say, “can’t reach that far.” Lena giggles again. No questions about the book right now, Pope thinks. He doesn’t want to deprive Lena of this. He simply sits back and tries to let the moment wash over him.
With Lena struggling in school after the loss of her mother Baz hires a tutor to manage Lena for him, you. Andrew 'Pope' Cody finds himself infatuated.
contains: MDNI! no use of y/n, smut, violence, fluff, angst, violence, death, editing of canon
♥️smut 💗fluff ❣️angst 💖sexy
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part One
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part Two
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part Three
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part Four
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part Five
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part Six
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part Seven
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part Eight
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part Nine
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part Ten
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part Eleven
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part Twelve
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part Thirteen
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part Fourteen
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part Fifteen
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part Sixteen
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part Seventeen
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part Eighteen
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part Nineteen
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part Twenty
Show Me Where It Hurts: Party Twenty-One
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part Twenty-Two
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part Twenty-Three
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part Twenty-Four
Show Me Where It Hurts: Part Twenty-Five
Show Me Where It Hurts: FINALE (Part Twenty-Six)
Show Me Where It Hurts: EPILOGUE (Part Twenty-Seven)
Show Me Where It Hurts: Father's Day (Bonus Chapter) ♥️💗💖
Show Me Where It Hurts: The Birthday (Bonus Chapter) 💗❣️💖
summary: With Lena struggling in school after the loss of her mother Baz hires a tutor to manage Lena for him, you. Andrew 'Pope' finds himself infatuated.
contains: MDNI! no use of y/n, no smut, just yearning, slight editing of canon
word count: 2.5k
authors note: short and sweet ;)
Previous Part
Andrew wakes to the sound of his bedroom door slamming open and Baz shouting. You are somehow already on your feet, you must have woken hearing him coming in the front door.
“What the fuck? Are you fucking insane? With Lena in the house? With my fucking kid in the house?” Baz yells at you, but you don't yell back.
“Baz,” You stand with her hands up speaking softly, “I don’t want to wake her up,”
Andrew stands quickly walking up behind you.
“Baz, back the fuck off,” Andrew snaps.
“Please, please,” you look between them and put your hand up to Andrew's chest as you face Baz, “please can I just talk to you outside? Quietly?”
Andrew and Baz stare at each other like they want to rip each other apart but pause at your soft tone as if they aren’t sure what to do with someone who doesn’t escalate a fight.
“Oh, now you’re worried about waking up Lena?” Baz snaps, but his voice is at normal volume.
“Yes,” You say softly. Baz looks behind you to Andrew who miraculously hasn’t jumped across the room to beat the shit out of him.
“Fine.” Baz huffs, “put your own fucking clothes on first.” He turns and walks out of the room with you following. You turn to look back at Andrew with a sorrowful expression on your face and pull the door shut.
Andrew stands in the room, his hands balled up in fists, leaning his head against the door listening, but you speak so softly he can only make out some of what you say.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”
“It was a mistake, it will never happen again I swear-”
“Please, I need this job, and I love Lena-”
A mistake. Your words ring around his head. He backs away from the door slowly before dropping on his bed. A mistake? How could you have changed your mind so quickly? Especially after blossoming on top of him like you just had, after kissing him like you had, after holding him so gently. Had he done something to scare you?
Andrew goes over the evening in his head: the pool, your wet clothes, his clothes on your body, his body on your body… He pushes his palms over his eyes. Maybe you had just fucked him because you felt sorry for him. Maybe you really did want something from him but he had been too blinded by your light to realize it. What could you possibly want? You obviously knew his family had money, you'd seen their big houses, multiple cars, and he was sure Baz was paying you some ludicrous amount to keep Lena occupied so he didn’t have to deal with her.
Before he can interrogate this thought further Baz pushes back in his room. Andrew stands immediately clenching his jaw and his fists.
“Relax, Casanova,” Baz rolls his eyes, “I didn’t fire her.”
Andrew’s jaw relaxes the slightest bit.
“But you need to stay the fuck away from her before you do something to freak her out and scare her off, or god knows, something worse.”
It seems Baz hadn’t figured out that Andrew already had scared you off, he just couldn’t figure out why. Andrew stares at him with dead eyes.
“Lena loves her. I love Lena. She stays. But you,” Baz points at Andrew, “have nothing to fucking do with her. They’re gonna be at my house from now on so no hanging around there, either. Maybe not even there, I don’t think I want to see her right now and picture…” BAz gestures at Andrew, “And you wouldn’t want Smurf to find out about this would you?”
This punches the air out of Andrew’s gut. Baz doesn’t even understand how right he is. Andrew doesn't want Smurf to find out about you. He wants to keep you safe. He nods his head at Baz..
“Good.” Baz says, “un-fucking-believable.” he mutters to himself as he turns and walks out of the room.
Andrew takes a deep breath trying not to go ballistic. You don't want him. Baz is furious at him. And if Smurf finds out god knows what she will do. He goes to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face. The clothes that you had been wearing are folded neatly in a pile on the counter.
Andrew is at Daren’s bar helping fix the dishwasher, a goodie that had been boosted by one of their guys that they had decided to keep for themselves. He’s been trying to tighten a bolt that just won’t stay in place for ten minutes. He steps back in a huff of frustration and hurls the wrench at the appliance.
“Woah,” Deran says, “what did the dishwasher do to you, Pope?”
Andrew just huffs, staring at the machine as if he could intimidate it into working.
“Does this maybe have something to do with… Lena’s tutor?” Deran probes softly.
Andrew turns his head and stares at his brother. Deran only shrugs.
“I just heard she’s been exiled from the Cody residences until further notice.” Deran says. Andrew’s stomach twists. Baz had really told you that you couldn’t even be at Lena’s house with her. He was punishing you because he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, punish Andrew.
“What is she supposed to do with Lena? They only spend an hour on school stuff anyway.” Andrew huffs. Deran looks at his brother with pity in his eyes and then turns away.
“You didn’t hear this from me,” Deran starts, “but yesterday Lena was talking about how excited she was going surfing tomorrow.”
Andrew says nothing.
“Which is today.” Deran clarifies.
“I fucking know it’s today.” Andrew snaps. Deran raises his hands up in defense,
“When?” Andrew says in a low voice.
Deran looks down at his watch.
“I’m not sure but I would guess now.” he says suggestively, and with that Andrew turns out of the bar and heads for his car.
The beach isn’t far from the bar, Andrew gets there in about ten minutes. The problem is he’s not exactly sure where you had taken Lena. He knows the best surfing in Oceanside is down 11th Street and 15th Street. He starts with 11th since it is closest.
As he walks down the beach he spots a few surfers bunched together, but none of them have a child with them. He decides to walk down the beach to the 15th street hang-out to try and clear his head. He wasn’t exactly sure what his plan was. Baz had told him to stay away, you had said you regretted ever sleeping with him but here he is anyway.
You… How could someone as perfect as you ever want to be with someone as fucked up as him? Maybe it was a pity-fuck after all. Could you really just be that generous? That you would just give yourself to him? Like that? That didn’t seem to track with the version of you he had seen. Yes, you were generous, but you weren't a pushover. You weren't going to do or say something until you meant it. So why had you said that?
Andrew's eyes rake up along the shoreline and he freezes. He spots Lena first, she’s standing on the shore in a bright blue wetsuit and a black lifejacket looking reluctant to go further into the water. You stand in front of her, the waves crashing around your knees. He sighs at the sight of you. Your hair is already wet in a loose braid that falls over your shoulder as you lean over holding the board in place. You’re wearing a dark green spring suit that cuts high on your hips and he can’t help himself as he thinks how beautiful you look.
Eventually, you have coaxed Lena into the water, both of you dunking before you roll Lena onto the board and start walking further into the waves. As the water gets high you start to swim, pushing the board out in front of you. The pair make it past the break and he watches as you point to parts of Lena and parts of the board to indicate what goes where. Lena shifts towards the front of the board and you push yourself up on the board behind her.
Andrew furrows his eyebrow. He had assumed you were going to instruct Lena how to surf, not surf with Lena on the board. He was already impressed that you were even going to try this. You straddle the board, looking back over your shoulder and he can’t help but think back to the way you had been straddling him the other night, shaking and moaning… he has to remind himself to focus on what’s happening in front of him. Lena sits on her knees, hands bracing the side of the board and you are on her knees behind her.
You start to paddle forward catching a wave and popping up behind Lena. You ride the wave, taking it all the way in. You had only gone in a straight line but he couldn’t believe you didn’t wipe out. You slide off the board and give Lena, who is bouncing with excitement, a high five. You paddle back out trying to repeat the previous move and wipe out immediately. He could see Lena leaning too far to the left tipping the board over. Your heads pop up and you push Lena's hair out of her face before helping her back up on the board. You ride in a dozen more waves with mixed success, on the last one you pull Lena up by the strap on her life vest and the two stand on the board for maybe three seconds before falling in.
You wade towards the shallow water and Lena points back to the ocean, gesturing at you. You shrug your shoulders and then hold up one finger. “Once,” you are telling Lena. Lena nods and sloshes onto the beach sitting down so the waves still run up against her toes. You raise your foot attached to the leash out of the water and kick your foot backward, snapping the board towards you. Andrew hates how sexy he finds that. Lena is also clearly impressed as he sees her clapping on the shore.
You move further into the water, laying on the board and paddling out. As a wave preemptively approaches you, you do a turtle roll, flipping the board upside down while holding the edges to let the wave pass over you. Lena loves this, rising to her feet to get a better look. Andrew loves it too. You sit on your board turning your head back and forth between watching the waves and watching Lena. Andrew can feel his heart squeeze about how careful you are being with his niece.
Finally, you start to paddle forward, popping up on the board. You generate speed compressing and extending against the wave and do a deep bottom turning towards the lip. You start a carving heelside turn before reaching the top of the water. You shift your weight to your front leg pushing the tail through the turn. You take the wave all the way in before falling off the board dramatically. Lena is jumping up and down, clapping, and cheering as you push through the water towards her. Andrew can’t even form a thought more complicated than wow. You stick your board in the sand and rest one hand on her hip talking to Lena. Andrew takes a good look at your board: it’s a soft teal-grey color with a sky blue bottom. It’s so… you.
He has maintained a large enough distance to not get spotted but with both girls out of the water he slowly turns and starts heading back the way he came.
By the time next Monday rolls around Baz has calmed down and told you that you can bring Lena to the compound again but he doesn’t want Andrew hanging around while the two of you are there.
“Got it Pope?” Baz says. Andrew stares him down but Baz just scoffs, “great, glad we’re on the same page.”
Pope gets back to the compound just after six which feels safe because Baz was going to be here to get Lena at five. But as he pulls into the driveway he sees your car pulled off to the side.
“Fuck it,” Andrew says to himself. Baz’s poor planning isn’t his problem and it’s not like he even wants to see you. You said what happened between them was a mistake. He would just go in the back door and head straight to his room. But as soon as he steps through the sliding glass door he can hear Lena’s laugh drifting down the hall. At least you were up in her room. Andrew stops at the bottom of the stairs listening to Lena talk as she giggles.
“...and then I will marry the prince!” Lena claps her hands as she finishes her story.
“That sounds like a really good plan,” he hears you agree.
“Yeah!” Lena says, she pauses for a moment before saying your name as a question.
“Lena?” you mimic her inflection.
“Do you… have a boyfriend?” Lena asks her, he can hear you laugh a little.
` “I do not,” you say.
“I think you should,” Lena offers.
“Oh yeah?” you say and Andrew can hear the smile in your voice.
“I think your boyfriend should be Uncle Pope,” Lena’s voice is utterly sincere and Andrew feels his stomach coil. In the moments before you answer he is both hopeful and terrified as to what you would say to this. He feels terrified that you would laugh at Lena and tell her that was a terrible idea, that you don't even think of him like that.
“What makes you say that?” you say softly.
“Because he likes you. He doesn't really smile but he smiles a lot when you’re around and he laughs at all your jokes, even the ones that aren’t funny.”
“I don’t tell jokes that aren’t funny,” you say in mock offense, this gets a small giggle from Lena but she gets quiet again.
“I just think…” Lena pauses gathering her thoughts, “I think he thinks romantic things about you. I think he wants to be in love with you. He thinks you’re beautiful.”
“Does he?” you say, amusement in her voice.
“Do you think he’s handsome?” Lena asks innocently.
“Listen here, you little matchmaker, enough questions for tonight.” you say gently.
“One more?” Lena poses softly. You sigh and must have nodded because Lena continues, “So… you don’t think romantic things about Uncle Pope?”
Andrew stands at the bottom of the stairs feeling like he’s going to be sick. He already knows that answer. You want nothing to do with him. You think he was a mistake. But still he holds his breath, listening for your answer.
“I think it’s so incredibly sweet that you want him to be happy.” You finally say.
“I want you to be happy too,” Lena says back.
“Well, that too.” you agree, “come here you little lovebug.” Lena squeals as Andrew assumes, you grab her into a hug.
“We should call your dad and find out what we’re gonna do with you.” you say.
Andrew turns down the hall towards his room and silently shuts the door.
summary: With Lena struggling in school after the loss of her mother Baz hires a tutor to manage Lena for him, you. Andrew 'Pope' finds himself infatuated.
contains: MDNI! no use of y/n, smut (grinding, m self-pleasure, sexual fantasy: oral m receiving), slight editing of canon
word count: 3k
Previous Part
Five minutes out. Baz texts you.
I’ll meet you out front!! you reply.
As the party rounds the corner Andrew spots you standing off to the side of the line in front of the club talking to the bouncer. The man is incredibly tall and well built and looking down at you in a way makes Andrew's throat tighten a little.
You look unbelievable. Your hair is down, blown-out into sleek swoops draping around your shoulders. Your top is skin tight, pink and metallic, it bandages around your torso and cuts straight across your chest pushing your tits together. You wear a pair of loose black jeans that hug your waist and a pair of black boots.
“Hey!” Craig shouts.
“Hi!” You take a few quick steps towards them resting your hand on Craig's shoulder, “I’m so glad you guys came. Come, come,” You lead them to where the bouncer stands.
“Nicky,” you say, lightly touching his forearm, “these are my friends Andrew, Baz, Lucy, Deran, Craig,” You point to each one as you say their name.
“Oh my god,” Nicky says, raking his eyes over the brothers, “where can I meet friends like this?”
“Ok,” you roll your eyes, “relax please,”
“You didn’t tell me your friends were going to be so… handsome…” Nicky pulls back the black rope aside for them. “Behave tonight boys,” Nicky says flirtatiously, “or don’t-”
“Nicky-” you cut him off, laughing “pull it together queen,”
“Sorry about him,” you shout as the group moves into the club, “he’s very… forward.”
Lucy immediately pulls Baz into the crowd, losing the rest of the group. You gather the rest of the brothers into a small circle on the dance floor, Deran and Andrew on either side of you. You dig into your front pocket and hold up a bag of small, pink, heart-shaped pills.
“Molly!” You shout, barely penetrating the music “Do you want? I took one already but you don’t have to!”
Craig is the first to shout yes. The others follow suit, nodding and smiling at you and one another. Out of the brothers, Andrew takes drugs the least, if at all, he can’t deal with feeling out of control. Yet, as he stands here with you he’s certain: he wants to feel how you feel. You pull a pill from the baggy and stick out your tongue, gesturing for Deran to mirror you. Deran laughs sticking out his tongue and you gingerly place one heart on it. Craig leans forward towards you with mouth open and you laugh, pulling your head back and tossing the pill in from a few inches away. As you give each of the boys a tablet they loosen up almost preemptively, starting to dance and sway, look around the room, close their eyes, raise their hands along with the beat.
Once you finally get to Andrew you pull a final pill out of the bag before shoving it back in your pocket. Andrew sticks out his tongue waiting for you to place the pill there. Instead, you stick out your own tongue and place the pink heart on it. Your hands come up to his face and you pull him towards you, flattening your tongue against his. Andrew can’t move. Your hands are so soft on his cheeks and your tongue is warm and wet against his. You lick your tongue against his, transferring the pill into his mouth. Your face flashes in the colorful strobing lights as you pull back, already starting to dance.
Deran seems to have caught that moment between the two of you and he looks at Andrew with his eyes wide and a small smile on his lips. He makes a thumbs up low next to his hip, and nods his head back towards you. Andrew clenches his fists.
The music is so loud Andrew can feel his whole body vibrate and pulse along with the rhythm. Deran and Craig have been lost to the crowd and throw their bodies around in a mosh pit at the center of the room. Andrew can’t take his eyes off you. You have your eyes closed and your hair is sweeping across your face as you move your head along to the beat. Your hands are raised into the air and you sway your hips back and forth.
As the music shifts you turn to Andrew locking your eyes on him. You smile, grabbing his hands in yours and moving them to the flow of the sound. You raise his hands above his head and drag your fingertips down his arms over his body and all he can do is stare at you. You hook your fingers into the belt loops on his jeans and pulls his body against yours. You turn slowly, pushing your ass into his crotch which is already hardening against you. You reach back, finding his big hands and placing them on your waist.
You sway your hips along to the music grinding into Andrew who is holding your waist so hard the skin under his fingertips turn white. Your head falls back against his shoulder and he breathes in deeply running the tip of his nose along your neck. You reach your right hand up, tangling your fingers into his curls and pulling softly. You can’t hear his moan against your throat over the music but you feel the low vibration against your skin.
You turn in Andrew's arms running your hands up his chest, your mouths are so close together he can feel your breath on his lips. Out of the corner of his eye he spots Baz, sloppily making out with Lucy, and he hears his words ringing in his head: no fucking Lena’s tutor. And even though you are pressed against him now, running your hand up his neck, biting your lip, all he thinks about is how much Lena loves you, and how it would break her little heart to never see you again. He feels his throat seize. He can’t take another person away from Lena. He pushes you back by your hips.
“What's wrong?” you shout, your chest heaves with deep breaths and your eyes scan his face. He still holds onto your hips and you move to put your hands over his, they rest there for a moment before Andrew pulls his hands away and yours drops to your sides. He looks at you, trying to memorize how you look right now before he turns away and pushes through the crowd and out of the club.
He makes it halfway down the block before he can hear you calling out after him.
“Hey!” you shout, walking towards him with her palms up, “are you ok?"
He slows and turns. He stares at you with those same shark eyes from the first day you met.
“I didn’t mean-” you start, “did I do something wrong?”
“No.” he says flatly.
“Ok well,” you turn back, gesturing towards the club, “you kind of ran out of there like I did.”
“I just have to go.” He says. Your shoulders drop slightly.
“Ok,” you say in a small voice, “well, get home safe.”
You wrap your arms around yourself and turn back towards the club. His eyes stay fixed on you as you walk down the sidewalk, scanning up and down your body. He watches you stop in front of the bouncer, Nicky, and talk to him, shaking your head slightly. Nicky’s eyes flick up over your shoulder at Andrew and he can see Nicky kiss his teeth. He then says something unintelligible with the sound of music drifting out of the door, raising his eyebrows at you. Nicky then pulls you into a bear hug, swaying slightly from side to side. Andrew turns sharply and rounds the corner down the street.
He starts walking. Not home, just, away from here. Away from you. He feels out of control, the pull you have on him is magnetic and constant. He can still smell the cinnamon, pepper, and orange of your perfume mixed with your sweat. The look in your eyes when he had you in his arms is seared in his brain, the red, blue, green lights flashing across your face, the glint in your eye as you pressed your body against him… He stops and leans against a building.
Eventually he finds himself back at Smurfs, the house empty. By this point the molly starts to kick in. Shit. He forgot he had taken molly. How could he have forgotten? Warmth spreads across his chest and a slow sense of elation takes over him. His mind happily wanders back to you. The sight of your cheeks slightly flush, eyelids heavy, sweat glistening across your chest. What he wouldn’t give to have pulled that pink shirt down and seen your tits.
Andrew's hand moves down his body, palming his crotch lightly. He thinks about you in that yellow dress the other night bending over the pool table looking up at him. He so badly wants to see you bent over in front of him, ass in his firm hands as he pulls you back hard against him, burying himself deep inside you. The thought of that, the lingering feeling of you grinding against him tonight has him popping open his jeans and dragging down the zipper.
He imagines you on your knees in front of him, gagging and sucking as he fucks your face. Holding your soft hair back for you as you choke on his dick. He thinks of your pink mouth wrapping around his tip, hands furiously stroking his cock. He imagines his name on your lips, how sweet it sounds coming from you. Andrew, he can almost hear you saying it right now. He wonders how you’d taste, how you’d feel squeezing around him, how you would sound as he fucked you. He thinks of you sitting on the couch that evening when he came back to you alone, curled up in a big sweatshirt and loose jeans, hair twisted up with pieces falling out. He thinks about how beautiful you looked.
He can feel heat building around his pelvis as he tightens his grip. You flash before his eyes as he closes them, your mouth, your skin, your scent, smile, chest, eyes, laugh… he wants to be consumed by you. He quickly brings his hand up spitting on it, increasing his pleasure as he twists his fist around his cock, pushing hips up in desperation. He runs his fingers over the thick vein along the underside of his cock, brushing his thumb over his tip. He moans your name out loud, imagining his hand is yours. His stomach flips as the tension releases, Andrew groans as a hot ribbon of cum shoots up over his pelvis and hand. His body shivers in contractions of pleasure.
After laying still for a moment, his softening cock still in his hand, Andrew slowly sits up assessing the mess he made, what you had done to him… and you weren’t even here. He peels his clothes off placing them in the hamper and walks to the bathroom. He steps into the shower letting the hot water fall over him. He slowly feels the high of you breaking. He had you. Tonight. You had wanted him and he got scared and ran. He faces the shower head bracing his hands on the wall feeling the water drip over his face and down his body. A sinking dread starts to blossom in his stomach. Could he recover from this or had he just blown his only shot with you?
Deran wakes to the feeling of something hitting his face lightly, he opens his eyes to see Andrew standing over him and a wetsuit laying on his chest.
“We’re going surfing,” Andrew says with a flat affect before turning and leaving the room. Deran rubs his eyes trying to wake himself up, he knows better than to try and argue with Andrew when he’s in a mood like this. They drive to the beach in silence, Andrew white knuckling the steering wheel the entire way. Soon, they are floating in the ocean, watching the waves roll in towards them.
“So,” Deran says, laying back on his board, “what happened last night?”
“Nothing.” Andrew says sharply. Deran turns to him, raising an eyebrow.
“Really?” Deran says, unconvinced, “it seemed like she was pretty into you.”
“She was rolling,” Andrew says.
“I mean she didn’t give the rest of us Molly with her tongue.” Deran shrugs. Pope sits on his board silently.
"I think you should go for it," Deran says earnestly,
“Baz would kill me. And then what if he fired her? Lena would be devastated.” Andrew sighs.
“Oh, come on man. Baz wouldn’t actually give a shit.” Deran tried to comfort him. Andrew stares down at his board.
"I don't know if I can." Andrew says. Deran sighs.
"Doesn't seem like you can catch a wave either." he smiles, trying to cheer Andrew up. Andrew lifts his leg out of the water and puts his foot in Derans side, pushing hard. Deran falls in the water with a splash. This gets a small smile from Andrew.
Andrew feels a hot weight of anxiety surrounding him thinking about the next time he’ll see you. He’s afraid you’re going to be mad, cold, distant. Punish him the way Smurf does. That was the type of love he had been given: entirely precarious, able to be pulled out from under him at any moment. He largely avoided the house that week, only going when he thought you’d be gone. It’s not late enough to be sure you’re not at the house so he heads to Daren’s bar to kill time.
As he pushes through the door his heart stops for a second. There you are. Sitting next to Craig, his head was thrown back in laughter as you smiled at him with a beer in your hand. Daren stands behind the bar laughing as well but Andrew catches his attention before he can sneak back out of the door.
“Hey!” Deran calls across the room. You and Craig turn in his direction. Andrew pauses for a moment before walking to the bar pulling a stool up next to Craig.
“Are you… not working today?” He asks you, not quite meeting your eye.
“Oh, I was but Baz got back early and said I could head out.” you say. Andrew is taken aback by how normal you seem. Still warm and open… to him.
“And now we are celebrating,” Craig says, lifting his beer bottle. Andrew raises his eyebrow.
“Celebrating what?” he asks. Craig tips the top of his beer bottle towards you.
“I uh, I found out today that I passed my comprehensive exams, they’re like these huge tests, essay, oral exams-”
“Oral exams,” Craig cuts in, raising his eyebrows.
“Yes, he’s quite amused by that,” you say tilting your head to the side, “anyway it’s a big milestone in the PhD process, basically it means I’m officially a ‘master in my field,’” you do air quotes, “so the guys invited me for a beer.” you smile at Andrew. He can’t get over you, how you actually seem happy that he’s here.
“Congratulations.” Andrew says.
“Thank you,” you tip your bottle towards him in acknowledgement before taking a final sip, draining the cool beer down your throat, “thank you for this guys, but I gotta go. I have some early student meetings tomorrow.” you push back from the bar and Andrew's heart sinks. He just arrived and now you’re leaving. Maybe you were just pretending and he couldn’t tell.
“Thank you again,” you say, giving a small wave before pushing out the door. Deran’s head snaps to Andrew, he nods his head to the side, gesturing for Andrew to go after you. Andrew takes a deep breath before following you out.
“Hey!” he calls, and you turn.
“Hi,” your eyes scan over him but your face remains open, a small smile on your lips.
“I uh,” he starts. Fuck. He should have thought about what he would say before he started talking, “I wanted to say sorry, for leaving like that the other night…” your eyes widened in sympathy as he tried to explain himself. You reach out and gently brush his forearm.
“It’s really ok, it gets pretty intense in there. Honestly, I was surprised you came at all; it didn't really seem like your vibe.” He sinks a bit inside himself.
“I mean I’m glad you came, I was hoping you would,” His eyes snap back up to your face, utterly sincere. “But I get it, it’s not everyone's scene. I only really go once every financial quarter.” You say in a serious tone.
His brown furrow in confusion.
“That was a joke.” you say, smiling and raising your eyebrows. “Really, don’t sweat it.”
You back away slowly heading for your red buggy which he spots two cars down. You’re staring at him and then you pause your steps.
“What is your scene, by the way?” you ask, bringing your hand up to your forehead, shielding your eyes from the sun you just stepped into.
“My scene?” he asks with a small smile.
“Yeah,” you shrug, “what do you do for fun?”
“I surf.” He says, pushing his hands in his pockets. His heart stutters.
“Huh,” you say, scrunching your nose, “interesting. Me too,” you turn and walk to your car, pulling open the front door, but before you step in you call out to him one last time.
“Maybe I’ll see you in the water soon,” you smile, squinting into the sun, and sink into the car. You give one more small wave before pulling away from the curb. Andrew waves back.
summary: With Lena struggling in school after the loss of her mother Baz hires a tutor to manage Lena for him, you. Andrew 'Pope' finds himself infatuated.
contains: MDNI! no use of y/n, eventual smut, mentions of violence, slight editing of canon
word count: 3.3k
Previous Part
That night the boys go to Deran's bar to talk about a job. Baz is there.
“Who’s with Lena?” Pope asks.
“She’s at Smurf’s with her tutor.” Baz tells him. Pope realizes this could be his opportunity to talk to you alone… he waits until the plan is set and his brothers devolve into talking about sports or women or whatever.
“I have to go,” he says brusquely, standing and heading to the door.
“You’re not gonna stay and hang out?” Deran calls across the bar.
“No.” Pope says letting the door fall shut behind him. When he gets to the house he can see the faint glow of the living room lamps from the driveway.
“Hey,” you out as he closes the door behind him. “She is out like a light.”
Pope rounds the corner to see you sitting on the couch with your knees up reading some book, you have the pages curled back all the way around the spine… no wonder your other book was trashed.
You look up from the page and your eyes widen slightly.
“Oh,” you say, surprised, “I thought you were Baz.”
“No,” Pope says slowly, “he’s still out with the guys.”
“Ok, um,” you dog-ear the page you're on and start to stand up, “I can get out of your hair then, or… sorry, do you want me to stay? I guess technically you’re not my relief-”
“Can I ask you about something?” Pope cuts in. Your head pulls back in surprise.
“Uh, sure…?” you lower yourself slowly back on the couch.
“A Wrinkle In Time,” Pope starts, you furrow your brow.
“I read it.” He says.
“You read it?” You say almost in disbelief.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
“You read the entire book last night?”
“I don’t sleep much.”
You stare at him.
“Sorry, what’s your question?” you ask.
“I guess,” Pope pauses, folding his hands together, “what do you think makes it so… good?”
You open your mouth and then close it again. He can’t quite read her face, are you confused? Upset? Do you think it’s weird he read it all in one night? Are you about to laugh at him?
“Well,” your eyes wander as if the answer is floating around the air in the room, “I think it’s different for everyone. I, uh, I really love that it’s told through the eyes of a group of outcasts who all value each other and what they bring to the table. You know? I feel like so much of the time we see stories about how the outcasts are shunned by the people who deem them to be ‘weird,’” She does air quotes as she says ‘weird,’ “but in this story they make up this little family who really love, and really see each other. I guess I felt… I didn’t really have many friends as a kid and I kind of always felt like the odd one out. So, the idea of having people actually like me because of what made me different rather than in spite of it… it just really spoke to me.” you look back at him as he stares at you.
“Does that answer your question?” you laugh a little.
“You didn’t have any friends?” Pope asks.
“That wasn’t part of the question,” you let out a small breath.
“No that’s just… that seems hard to believe, you just seem so…” His gaze flicks up to you and you’re looking at him expectantly, quickly he looks away, “you just seem like someone that people like,”
You laugh, turning away.
“That is… very sweet.” You look back at him with a small blush on your cheeks.
“Well,” You say, not breaking eye contact, “what did you think about it?”
“Oh, no, I don’t know,” Pope feels himself turning inward, he doesn’t have anything smart or profound to say to you.
“Come on,” You smile brightly at him and poke his knee with the book in your hand, “there’s no wrong answer. Just… humor me?”
The truth was growing up he felt a lot like the protagonist: a kid who was teased and misunderstood by most of his peers. He wasn't in control of his feelings or emotions, and they often got him in trouble. Learning that there was a character out there who was like that but was still the hero? That made something inside him shift, something he couldn’t quite articulate out loud yet.
“I liked how weird they all were.” Pope almost mutters, unimpressed with his own answer, but you don’t miss a beat.
“Right? Quirky, and awkward, like… generally strange but also totally normal.” You smile, sighing, “I told you, one of the greatest ever.”
“If you’re nine,” Pope parrots your earlier words.
“Well, I guess nine-year-old me still lives inside me… but twenty-six year old me also thinks it’s one of the greatest ever.”
Pope eyes soften at your words. He shifts on the couch.
“You should probably go,” he says, “you must be tired after running around with Lena since school.”
You’re slightly taken aback by this request but stands with your book in your hand. Andrew steals a look at the cover, The Master and Margarita, it reads.
“Well, I’ll see you… when I see you, I guess. Goodnight.” You say as you grab your bag off the back of a chair and walk out the front door.
“Night.” Pope says quietly.
The next week Pope was driving to check out a location for a possible job. Smurf got a tip that morning and she wanted to move fast. While his eyes were on the road his mind kept drifting back to the night with you on the couch. As you talked about that book he really looked at you for the first time. He noticed your dimples, a birthmark on your cheek, and a small scar above your eyebrow. He snaps back to reality as his phone buzzes in the cupholder. It’s not a number he recognizes.
“Hello?” He says.
“Hello Mr. Cody? This is Grace Tyler, Lena’s teacher, from Oceanside Elementary. Everything is fine but Lena is still here, no one came to pick her up this afternoon,”
“What?” Pope snaps.
“I called her father but he didn’t pick up. Lena says her tutor is supposed to come get her but the only other number I have on file is yours.”
“I’m on my way, just tell her I’m coming.” He says, pressing his foot down into the gas pedal and hauling the car around. Pope pulls up to the school in his truck ten minutes later, spotting Lena and her teacher sitting on the front steps.
“Hey,” he calls out, jogging up the steps, “where’s your tutor?” he asks Lena, she shrugs, trying not to look upset.
“I’m so sorry about the mix up. I’ll make sure to get her tutor's phone number when I see her next.” Grace says.
Pope huffs, “Thank you for waiting with her.” he says brusquely.
He feels like an idiot. You didn’t show up. Why would you not show up? Lena was waiting for you. Had he misjudged you? Why would he trust a random stranger with something as precious as Lena in the first place? He tries to keep calm, guiding Lena to the truck by her shoulder. As he helps Lena up into the backseat, he hears a voice behind him.
“Hey!” you shout, his head snaps in your direction, ready to chew you out, but his heart drops to his stomach as soon as he gets a good look at you.
You’re standing on the pedals of your bike slowing down as you approach. Dried blood drips down her right knee and elbow. You drop your bike alongside the car, catching your breath.
“What happened?” Pope's eyes wide, his hands coming up to reach out to you but he balls his fists and puts them back at his side.
“My car,” you breathed heavily, “I went to leave and I had a flat. So, I started to bike, and I was gonna make it here on time too.” Your face is flushed, why do you look so… pretty like this? “But some asshole clipped me on Cassidy Street. I tried to call Baz, like three times, so he could tell the school but he didn’t answer. And then the cops came and they took statements and pictures and blah, blah, who cares,” you lean against the truck peering into the open car door where Lena sits, “you ok?”
“Yeah,” Lena says, looking down at MJs leg, “are you ok? You’re bleeding.”
“Oh, I’m fine,” you smile, “looks a lot worse than it feels. I’m a tough cookie.”
“Well, Uncle Pope can take us home.” Lena says, looking at her uncle expectantly. Pope's body is still trying to catch up with his mind. What is wrong with him? Of course you were coming. Why hadn’t he thought to make sure you were ok?
“That would be very nice,” you say, snapping Andrew out of his spiraling thoughts.
“Yeah,” he manages to get out as he closes Lena’s door.
“Here,” he picks up your bike and puts it in the bed of the truck.
“Are you sure you’re ok?” Pope asks.
“No,” you say through your teeth, “it really fuckin' hurts, I just didn’t want to scare her.”
You let your face fall a little bit, wincing as you look down at your bloody leg then looking at your elbow brushing off some gravel that still stuck to you.
“We’ll get you cleaned up at Smurf’s.” Pope's hand ghosts behind your back as he steps around you to pull the passenger side door open. He so badly wants to lift you up into the seat, to ease your pain just a little. You slide into the car smiling at him as he closes the door.
The drive home is easy, you pepper Lena with questions about what she learned, and what she had for lunch, and who she played with at recess. After they pull up to the house Andrew jumps out of the car, jogging around to open your door and then Lena's.
“Lena,” Pope starts as he pushes open the front door, “why don’t you go watch TV for a while, I’m gonna help her.”
“There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom in the back.” He says.
“Lead the way,” you gesture forward, and as you limp a little behind him his heart aches.
“Do you want to um, get in the tub?” He asks as he pushes into the bathroom.
“Are we having a wet t-shirt contest?” You laugh, and his throat tightens at the image that conjures in his head. You sit on the bathtub's edge pulling at the laces of your shoe which are now red with blood. Pope doesn’t feel like laughing right now. After getting your shoes off you swing your feet inside the tub.
“You should probably get the dried blood off,” Pope says, placing the kit on the sink. He reaches towards the detachable shower head turning it on, testing the water on his hand. He brings it up slowly to your ankle, you reach down and start to wipe off the blood. You move like this, slowly and together, going up your leg. You stop before getting to the actual wound.
“Ok,” Pope says gently, “this might hurt a little,”
“Ok, fuck it, just do it,” You say looking away and gripping the edge of the bath. Pope brings the nozzle up to your knee, pulling back so the water doesn’t come down as hard.
“Owwww, ow,” you wince and bring your hand up to his shoulder and squeeze, digging your nails into the fabric of his shirt.
“Almost done,” Pope says, trying to focus on the injury and not the feeling of your hand on him. “Ok, let’s see your arm now.”
You rotate your elbow, this cut is not nearly as big so the blood gets washed off with little fanfare. Pope turns to the sink, grabbing the kit and turns back to you. He pulls out neosporin, Q-tips, gauze, and medical tape, lining them up on the tub's edge. You grab a paper towel and gently dabs the water off your leg and arm and Andrew tries not to wish that he was doing that for you instead. He focuses on the Q-tips and the ointment, touching the cream to your wounds lightly before gently wrapping both your arm and leg with gauze. He feels his cheeks warm as his knuckles brush against your skin and prays you don’t notice.
“Thank you,” You look warmly at Pope, “really, this was so kind, I- thank you.”
“It’s okay.” Pope says, feeling overwhelmingly shy. Still, he puts his hand out for you to take and as you step out of the tub he tries to memorize the feeling of your hand in his. You slowly walk down the hallway to find Lena sitting in front of the TV.
Later that day Pope goes to case the joint he had initially set out to look at that afternoon. He tries not to feel too happy knowing that you will still be there upon his return because he has your bike in his trunk. His heart sinks a little when he sees that Smurf's car, along with Craigs, is in the driveway too.
You must have encountered Smurf by now, it had been weeks since you started tutoring Lena, and you had been at Smurf's house more than a dozen times. Still, he felt a nagging in his gut, like he wanted to keep you as far away from Smurf's manipulative grasp as possible. It’s hard for his heart not to sink a little as he walks in and sees Smurf sitting at the kitchen table with Lena and you instead of on the couch with Craig and Deran who sit side by side, half-watching some old procedural drama.
“Pope,” Smurf says looking up at him, “I was just hearing about your heroics this afternoon.” Pope just stares back at Smurf, he knows she has an angle with you, he just doesn’t know what it is yet.
“He was a real peach,” you say, “thank you again, really, I owe you one.” you smile earnestly at Pope. He can’t bring himself to look at you right now, he can’t give anything away.
“No problem.” He says.
“Craig,” Smurf calls out, “honey, take this young lady home and fix her tire before coming back.”
“Her bike is already in my car,” Pope starts to protest before he can stop himself.
“Well then give Craig your keys.” Smurf orders.
“I can ride my bike home, really, I feel much better.” you try to interject.
“No.” Pope and Smurf speak at the same time. Your eyes widen and your brow slightly furrows.
“Ok, well, I will just see myself to the truck and wait,” You say, trying to alleviate the building tension. You stand and reach over to Lena, smiling as you smooths the girls hair out of her face, “I’ll see you tomorrow,”
Lena wraps her arms around your legs resting her face on your stomach.
“Tomorrow,” Lena says, looking up at you before turning and running to her room.
“Uh, good night all, I will leave you to pick straws for who gets to drive me home,” you give a small wave as you pull the front door open and step out. Smurf's false smile drops as soon as you are out of the door.
“Why does it matter who drives her home?” Smurf says pointedly at Pope.
“It doesn’t.” Pope says, flatly, staring right back at her. The corner of her mouth twitches up as she turns to look at Craig.
“She’s spending a lot of time with Lena and she is especially impressionable right now, I just want you to sniff her out a little.” She turns back to Pope, “Sorry, baby, but he is just better with… this certain demographic.”
Craig sighs and stands, crossing the room and holding his hand out for Pope's keys.
“But Baz said he can’t fuck her,” Deran cuts in from the couch, a small, devious smile on his face.
“Christ,” Smurf says, rolling her eyes, missing the small flex of Pope's jaw at Deran's comment, “I’m not telling you to have sex with her, just drive her home and charm her a little, get her talking,” She pushes Craig's hair behind his ear, dragging her finger down his jawline. “I want to know who my granddaughter is spending all her time with.”
As Craig walks out of the house Pope sits down stiff as a board on the couch. He racks his brain for exactly what Craig had said about you. “Cute,” “sexy,” “we’re both adults,” rattled around in his mind. You had been so sweet to him, so sincere, but maybe that’s because you just was those things. Maybe you were in the car right now being sweet and sincere to Craig. Maybe you were touching his shoulder as you laughed. And Craig had been right, you were at least ten years younger than Pope, you and Craig were much closer in age.
Pope tried to push down his feelings of jealousy telling himself he didn’t care. He didn’t care about your laugh, or your dimples, or your inhibition. He told himself he didn’t care how gentle and kind you are to Lena, or how gentle and kind you are with him. He didn’t care that you bring light and levity to a house, a family that is so consistently marred with darkness.
Craig saunters in about thirty minutes later and sits back on the couch cracking open a beer from the six pack Deran left on the coffee table.
“So?” Smurf asks, “Anything you would like to share with the group?”
“Oh, yeah, um…she asked what I do for work.”
“You were supposed to be getting information about her, not giving it.” Smurf sighs. “And what did you tell her?”
“I told her we have a family business.”
“Doing what?” Smurf huffs.
“Property management.”
“Ok,” she says, her lips tight, “that’s fine. What did you learn about her?”
“Uh, I didn’t really get to ask much, she’s quick, like, she talks kinda fast. She asked if I surfed because she saw the boards alongside the house so we talked about that for a little. She started surfing a lot in college but doesn't really get to do it much anymore. She’s, um, a PhD student, or maybe she said candidate, or something at UCSD, but she also teaches classes there. English Literature… to undergrads… something about monsters? Or maybe it was vampires? Then she started talking about some books I’d never heard of, she was a little hard to keep up with.”
“Jesus, did she use too many big words for you?” Smurf glares down at Craig, “What about where she’s from? Does she have a family? Friends? Boyfriend? Vices? A record? Anything at all that could possibly be useful to us?”
A boyfriend, Pope repeated in his head. He hadn't even thought of that.
“She doesn’t seem like someone who would have a record.” Craig said almost sheepishly.
“My god, you’re fucking useless.” Smurf whines, throwing her hands up and letting them slap down on her thighs.
“Well, at least now we have her academic history and extra curriculars!" She pinches the bridge of her nose, “Ok, Craig, give Pope her address.”
“Why?” Pope asks.
“Because you’re gonna go look around her place while she’s here tomorrow.” Smurf says smiling and looking Pope dead in the eyes. He knew he couldn’t argue with her without showing his hand more than he already had.
“It’s Carroll Canyon Road,” Craig says looking at his maps app, “2426 Carroll Canyon Road. I don’t know what the apartment number was but it’s on the right, on the second floor, she locked her bike on the railing outside her front door.”
“You’re sure it’s the second floor?” Smurf asks with her hands on her hips.
“Yes, Smurf,” Craig sighs, rubbing his brow, “I did carry her bike up the stairs for her, you said to charm her.”
summary: With Lena struggling in school after the loss of her mother Baz hires a tutor to manage Lena for him, you. Andrew 'Pope' finds himself infatuated.
contains: MDNI! no use of y/n, eventual smut, mentions of violence, slight editing of canon
word count: 4.5k
Previous Part
Andrew feels torn as he pulls up to your apartment complex. On the one hand you have been nothing but good, you don't deserve to have someone pick through her life, especially not someone like him. On the other hand he is desperate to see what it would be like in there, it felt like pulling back the curtain on this woman he is slowly becoming infatuated with. He feels like he is about to crawl into your skin. He walks up the front path with a tool box in hand looking for your blue bike on the railing, spotting it in front of the third apartment down the row.
Slowly, he makes his way up the stairs walking down the balcony path. He looks in the windows first, the two to the right of your front door look into the living room and kitchen. He approaches the door and pulls the lock picking kit from the toolbox, handyman is always a good cover for being somewhere you’re not supposed to be. It’s quick, easy work and he tries not to think too much about your safety if it’s this easy to get into her apartment.
The kitchen sits to the right, a grey granite counter spreads across the wall perpendicular to the door. He feels quite taken by how neat and tidy it is: dried dishes in a rack beside the sink, a small bowl of fruit with oranges, mangoes, and limes at the end of the counter, and a dish towel with cows on it folded on the oven's handle.
A picture held up by a cat magnet shows you wearing a pair of glasses and a dark blue sweatshirt, ‘Cal’ written in cursive across the front. You are staring deadpan into the camera with an open book balancing on her head. Next to you sits a guy in a grey t-shirt that reads ‘CALIFORNIA BASEBALL’ with a golden bear beneath it, he flips off the camera, his other arm resting on the back of your chair. Papers and books sit on the table scattered in front of them. ‘A boyfriend’ Smurf had asked about.
Pope looks through your cabinets, filled with mismatched mugs, squiggly shaped glasses, and different colored plates all with flowers on them. Pope's hand itches as he pushes down the need to reorder the shelves. Leave no trace. He turns to face the rest of the apartment. A small round table with four chairs around it sits beneath the far window, a glass vase of flowers perched on it. Tulips, maybe?
In front of the TV on the far wall a dark red couch sits with two of those scratchy pillows resting on it, one dotted with a lobster the other made to look like a playing card: queen of hearts. The dark wooden console where the TV sits is littered with half melted candles and dried flowers in small vases.
On either side of the console are piles and piles of books. Pope can’t even believe the amount, he thinks there must be four hundred at least, all in various conditions, most of them clearly read but gently cared for. He thinks back to the state of your copy of A Wrinkle in Time. He rakes his eyes slowly over the piles looking for books with extra creases in the spine, extra signs of love, but none stand out.
Along the wall furthest from the kitchen there sits a large, dark cherry desk with a deep blue leather chair slightly pulled out in front of it. A row of books stand in the lamp in the corner and a bookend of a frog reading in a chair. Here are all the favorites Pope guesses by the creases in the spine and the dozens of sticky notes sticking out at odd angles. All of them are books he doesn’t recognize, and he tries not to think about what a mistake it was to drop out of high school. If he hadn't, maybe he would have gone to college, maybe he would have read one of these and could talk to you about it. The guy on the fridge, an athlete and a scholar, that seems more like your type, not someone who breaks into other people's apartments.
Pope finally wanders towards your bedroom, the crown jewel in terms of finding dirt on someone. Or information, rather… he was just getting some information. The room was small with only a bed, a nightstand, and a dresser for furniture. The bed was against the wall facing the door, the comforter pink with long, thin brown stripes running up it, brown and white checkered sheets slipped out from under the comforter, the bed only partially made. Nothing much to learn from an unmade bed. Parallel to the bed was a window covered with only gauzy, white curtains. Anyone could pass by in the evening and see the inside of the room if the lights were on. Pope blinks hard and tries to click that image away from his mind. Along the wall below the window are more piles of books, there must be a hundred in here as well.
“Jesus,” He says out loud. You must read more than anyone he knows. Not that there is much competition. Still, he thinks you must read more than most people at all. Next to the bed was a small nightstand with a lamp and three small drawers going down the front. That’s where Pope started.
He recognizes the book on the nightstand from the other evening, The Master and Margarita, alongside it are a half-full glass of water, and a birth control pack. Pope decided to start at the bottom drawer of the nightstand, inside he found nothing extraordinary: a makeup bag, sewing kit, hairdryer, tealight candles, and some tangled chargers and cables, and some other junk that clearly had nowhere better to be kept.
The middle drawer is more interesting. There are some things he is unsurprised by: a few jewelry boxes with various necklaces and rings in them, a couple baseball caps, a small can of pepper spray… a bowie knife with an ivory handle. Nine inches he guesses. If the handle is real it’s not cheap either, and the ivory feels real. Why the fuck do you have this? He takes a picture of the knife. He finds your passport, social security card, and birth certificate in a manilla folder pressed flat to the side of the drawer. You’re eleven years his junior. He puts it back immediately, this is not information Smurf needs to get her hands on. There are a few older looking notebooks, diaries, maybe, but he can’t bring himself to look at them.
The top drawer somehow feels like the biggest violation of your privacy but he pulls it open slowly. A packet of tissues, a nail file, nail clippers, a swiss army knife, a few bottles of nail polish, a tube of hand lotion, a few small notebooks, pens, a pack of playing cards, earphones, old birthday cards, your college ID from Berkeley which he picks up and examines, the picture so faded he can barely make out your face. As he puts the ID back he spots it, tucked in the back right corner is what he was scared of, or maybe hoping, to find. A bright pink rabbit vibrator. Next to it a small purple bullet vibrator. He stares at the objects for a second, his face feeling warm, and slides the drawer shut.
Pope tries to slow his breathing, turning and walking a few paces to the dresser. Scattered across the top of the dresser mismatched cups are filled with makeup brushes, mascara, lip gloss, and other things he doesn’t know the names of. Earrings are jumbled together in a small green bowl, and a few necklaces hang from the lamp in the back right corner. A hair brush lays on a small tray littered with hair clips and elastics, and a black bottle of perfume. He uncaps the bottle and brings it up to his nose and breathes in. It smells like cinnamon, pepper, orange, woody, almost vanilla, it’s assertive yet sensuous. It reminds him of a wild summer night, it reminds him of you.
Pope decides he’s got enough intel to make Smurf happy for the time being. He leaves the apartment leaving no clues that he had been there. As he walks back to the car he goes over what he learned: You went to University of California, Berkeley (he thought to search up the acceptance rate: 11%). You are extremely book smart. You teach at University of California, San Diego in the English department. You have a bowie knife in your bedside table.
Pope returns back to the compound sitting in the car for a moment repeating his list of information in his head. As he pulls open the front door his heart stops for a moment, he forgot to call Smurf to see if Lena and you would be here. The house seems quiet but he walks around slowly, waiting to find evidence of the pair's presence. But he only finds Smurf, sitting in a sun lounger and smoking a cigarette in the back.
“So?” Smurf looks over the rims of her sunglasses, “did you find anything useful?”
“I found some stuff but I’m not sure what exactly would be of use to you,” He drones back. She gestures at the chair next to her with her cigarette. Pope sits on the very edge. She pushes her sunglasses lower down her nose and raises her eyebrows as if to say go ahead.
“She, uh, she lives alone, seems like a pretty quiet neighborhood, not many people around the complex during the day.” He can’t show Smurf his reluctance so he pushes on, “I think she went to college at UC Berkeley, and Craig was right she does teach at UCSD. She seems like a pretty thorough record keeper, she has pretty much everything she’s doing everyday written down on a wall calendar.” He palms start to sweat a little and he rubs his hands on his jeans, “She uh, keeps a bowie knife in her bedside drawer, not small, seemed like an antique, maybe valuable, maybe just valuable to her.” Smurf nods along smirking as he speaks, a gleam of pride twinkling in her eye. He forgot how good that felt, Smurf being proud of him.
“Well, we’ll soon see if all your suspicions are correct…” Smurf pushes her sunglasses back up and reclines on the chair taking a long drag from her cigarette. Pope tries not to react.
“What do you mean?” He asks.
“She’s coming to family dinner on Sunday,” Smurf smiles and Pope's stomach drops, “I didn’t doubt you baby. We just want to be thorough. Call it… a back up plan…”
Pope hasn’t been able to focus all weekend. His mind keeps drifting back to you and how you had no idea what you were walking into: the Lions den. You don't know how Smurf twists things, how she lulls people into a sense of security and then drops the floor out from under them, and, worse, you don't know that he is a lion, too. He feels as if he’s played a cruel trick on you: bandaging your wounds one day and breaking and entering into your apartment the next. He was just as bad as Smurf, he thought.
It was unseasonably warm that night, settling to 75 degrees as your arrival approached. Lena was ecstatic, she had insisted on wearing her blue dress with small white flowers stitched around the collar and she was lingering by the door, waiting for you to knock. Pope hopes that no one can tell that he is just as anxious for your arrival as Lena. As the clock moves to 7:01PM three steady knocks ring through the house.
“I’ll get it!” Lena shouts, swinging open the door with all her might, “Hi!” She jumps and wraps her little arms around your waist.
“Hey you!” you smile down at her, resting your hand on top of Lena’s head.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” Lena beams up at you.
“I’m so happy to be here,” You say back. Lena grabs your hand and drags you to the kitchen. Smurf stands at the far end of the counter while the boys finish putting all the food on plates and in bowls. They all greet her in a jumbled smattering of ‘hey’ and ‘what up’.
“Darling,” Smurf says, cutting through, “we are so glad you could come.” Smurf holds her arms out but doesn’t move from her spot across the kitchen. Pope’s eyes flicker between you both, waiting for an awkward pause. Instead, you stride over and hug her, “I’m so glad to be here! I actually brought you a little something to say thank you for having me,” you say, fishing something out of your bag. You pull out a bottle of wine and hand it to Smurf. Pope can see the condensation, it’s ice cold. He can also see the small pull back of Smurf’s eyelids, she’s… surprised.
“Domaine Zind-Humbrecht Riesling Grand Cru Hengst” Smurf reads out the label and pauses, “this is a very nice bottle of wine young lady.”
“Well, I have a very nice host,” you say, tilting your head. Smurf tilts her head in the same direction, a look on her face that seems almost impressed. Lena quickly follows you across the kitchen.
“Did you bring me something?” Lena asks, resting her hands on your hip.
“Lena,” Smurf says sharply, “that’s not very polite.” But you are already crouching down to Lena’s eye level.
“Oh, I’m sorry kid, I was going to,” you paused and Lena’s smile dropped slightly, “and then I did.” you grin, pulling a tall green bottle out of your bag. Lena grabs it, her mouth wide open and her eyes twinkling.
“Sparkling Apple Cider,” she reads, “Dad, am I allowed to have this with dinner?”
“Yeah, why not,” Baz says.
“It’s much better than the stuff grown-ups drink anyway.” You wink at Lena but Pope catches it, his stomach fluttering as if it was meant for him.
“This wine is wasted on the boys,” Smurf says, pulling two wine glasses down onto the counter, “they don’t know how to appreciate something with a good body.”
“Ha!” you smile, eyes widening, “more for us then.”
Pope has been so enamored by your performance with his mother that he doesn’t even process the nasty comment Smurf just made at his, and his brother's, expense, or the double entendre she threw in at the end.
Smurf had always been quick, able to shake someone with only a few words but you were quicker: every comment Smurf had made seemed designed to throw you, to get you off balance. What you were doing couldn’t quite be called standing solid against Smurf’s battering. It was more like you were sliding past them, like water flowing around a boulder, moving so seamlessly that Smurf herself lost track of what she was doing.
“Well, you’ll have to sit next to me then.” Smurf smiles and it looks almost sincere.
“I want to sit next to her!” Lena cuts in.
“You can sit on my other side, cowgirl.” you say. Lena laughs and grabs your hand again, dragging you towards the table. She guides you to the seat next to the head of the table, next to Smurf. It was only then that Pope really took in your appearance for the first time that night. You are wearing a dress that stops in the middle of your thigh, light yellow with brown polka dots scattered across it. Sitting against your collar is a pearlescent necklace, different colored daisies woven through intermittently. Your hair, which was usually twirled into a clip or held up by a pencil, falls past your shoulders in waves brushing down right below your chest. Your chest. This was more of you than he had ever seen. The dress's neckline is V-shaped, dipping down to your sternum; not too much that it wasn’t appropriate for a family dinner, no, it was just enough.
The boys bring the large plates of food to the table, setting them along the middle. Pope slides in the seat across from you, feeling excited by the closeness but also knowing that this wouldn’t raise any flags as he usually sat beside Smurf during family dinners. They all pass the dishes around, you put food on Lena’s plate for her.
“Can she put me to bed?” Lena looks up at Baz and points at you.
“I’d be happy to-” you start.
“She is not working right now.” Smurf cuts her off looking down to Lena, “I will put you to bed. Pope, do the dishes please.” Telling not asking. Smurf ushers Lena to her bedroom, shooting a look at Craig as she walks towards the stairs.
“Do you play pool?” Craig asks you.
“Uh, sure,” you say, “do you mean right now?”
“Yeah, right now,” He nods his head towards the back of the house, Baz and Deran starting to walk in that direction.
“Well, don’t you think we should- do you want help?” You turned to Pope.
“It’s fine,” he says looking at the floor.
“Are you sure?” you say sincerely.
“I got it.” Pope says.
“Ok, well,” you start to follow Craig, “only if you’re willing to put some money on the table.” As you leave the kitchen you look over your shoulder at Pope who is already facing the sink with his back to you. He listens to the group walk away quickly, turning his head to see the yellow of your dress disappear down the hall. He stands at the sink gripping the edge of the counter staring down at the mess of dishes. He can’t remember the last time someone asked if he wanted help cleaning up.
Pope walks back towards the sun room with the pool table only catching the end of the game. Baz and Craig paired up leaving Deran and you as a team, or, he wonders, if Deran had picked you. He walks through the room and stands against the far wall taking in the scene before him. There are four striped balls and the black eight left on the table. You aim for one of the stripes but scratch, your stick stimming over the top of the cue ball pushing it forward only a smidge.
“Shit,” you stand, pursing your lips. Baz moves around the table calling the last shot.
“Back left,” he says, bending forward. He knocks the 8-ball in the pocket in a clean shot.
“Aw man, good game,” you say, holding yourself up against the cue, “what if we go again? Double or nothing? $100 each?” Deran turns to you with an expression of pity on his face.
“Are you sure?” He says, raising his eyebrows.
“Don’t worry,” you smile, “I’m good for the money.”
“Fine by me,” Craig chimes, “losers can go first.” You nod your chin at Deran.
“You break.” you say to him. He shrugs and takes the first shot and sinks one. Stripes.
“Alright, let’s see,” you say, chalking up your cue. You knock the 15-ball cleanly into the corner pocket. Deran eyebrows raise in approval. You mirror his expression with a small smile on your face. He bends over the table and lines up the next shot, knocking the 9-ball easily in the middle pocket.
“Nice,” you say, moving around the table lining up. You hit the cue ball against the opposite side of the table, bouncing back and sinking another stripe in the corner pocket.
“Woah, bank shot!” Deran holds his hands up to high-five you, you laugh and clap your hand against his. Pope stares at you. Deran misses the next shot but they’re already up by four. Craig just misses a corner shot, the 6-ball ricocheting off the edges of the pocket. He straightens up muttering under his breath.
You click your tongue as you walk around the table. The 10-ball sits near a corner pocket angled awkwardly away from the cue ball. You line up and knock the white ball forward so that it clips the edge of the blue-striped ball, spinning it slowly into the pocket. The corner of Pope’s mouth curves up for a second.
“What is this?” Craig cocks his eyebrow up, “are you hustling us right now?”
You drop your jaw.
“No! I would never, I-” You gesture vaguely with your hand, “I guess I was just… rusty.”
Deran misses the next shot, but you stand next to him brushing your shoulder against his.
“Don’t worry about it,” You say. Pope’s chest flashes with heat.
“No he should worry,” Baz says, lining up the shot and sinking a solid ball. Craig makes quick work sinking another. Baz just misses the third. Deran lines up and comes just shy of the middle pocket. Craig misses his next shot.
“Craig, come the fuck on, man!” Baz huffs in annoyance. You round the table, positioning yourself directly across from Pope. You look up at him briefly, catching his eye before looking back down to the table. You pocket the sixth ball for you and Deran by knocking it off of a solid color before it rolls into the cup.
“Let’s fucking go!” Deran says, pushing your shoulder lightly. Pope flexes his hand in his pocket. Deran lines up his shot, easily sinking another ball.
You wander around the table looking for your shot, bending over, lining up with the white ball, you pursed your lips focusing on the table.
“Back left pocket,” you call and snaps your stick forward hitting the cue ball off a solid still sitting on the table, the white ball bouncing off that and colliding with the 8 which then sinks easily in the back left pocket. You stand up straight smiling as the brothers all stare at the table, taking in the shot you just made.
“So, I think that’s four hundred for me and Deran?” You smile, the boys all still looking wide-eyed at you, “I mean, we can go again if you want.”
“I call being on her team,” Craig raises his hand. You laugh.
“I’m never playing pool with you again,” Baz says, pointing at you.
“Aw, come on!” you say, “I’ll use my winnings to…” your eyes flick up towards the ceiling looking for a consolation prize in her head. Your eyes flick back down to Baz and Craig.
“Do you guys know Studio? The club in downtown San Diego? I have a friend who’s doing a DJ set there next Friday. You can all come, I will buy your first round. It’ll be really fun. Or is that weird, maybe, because I work for you?” You look at Baz.
“Oh Baz will get over it,” Craig says smiling, clapping him on the shoulder, “come one, man, bring Lucy, it’ll be sick.”
“Absolutley bring whoever! No pressure, really, but if you’re up for it I’ll just text you the details on Friday, Baz?” You say.
“Yeah, yeah, that sounds like it could be fun.” Baz acquiesces.
“Good,” You smile. You then turn your wrist up, looking at your watch, “alright, I think it’s time for me to hit the road, I have an early class tomorrow.”
“Did you drive?” Deran asks.
“No, I got a car, I’ll just call another one now.” They all walk back to the front of the house and you grab your bag and dig out your phone.
“Tell your mom I say thank you so much again,” You give a small wave and step out into the night. The boys wander back into the house except for Pope who stands in front of the closed door. He walks a few paces back in the house grabbing his keys. Your head spins around as the door opens and shuts.
“Cancel the ride,” Pope says. You blink at him.
“No, it’s no problem-” you begin to protest.
“Cancel it.” He walks toward the black Jeep at the end of the driveway. A small smile plays on your lips as you follow him to the car.
Pope pulls out into the road and you type your address into his phone, he feels a twinge of guilt having to pretend that this is his first time going there. You roll down the window letting the warm night air blow into the car. You flick your eyes to him scanning his profile. His brown curls are soft, his mouth is slightly down-turned but you run your eyes over the pronounced M of his cupid's bow. You follow the freckles from his face down to his neck where his short sleeve shirt is buttoned to the top, then down his arms which strain against the sleeves of his shirt. A thick vein runs down the front of his bicep. The car is quiet before you speak.
“Do you always drive in complete silence?” you teased. He clenches his jaw.
“You can talk if you want.” He says, this gets a small laugh from you.
“Ok, um,” you hum, “you know I actually have been wanting to ask you something…”
His stomach flutters.
“Why does your family call you Pope? Or if it’s personal or something you don’t have to tell me.” Pope lets the question hang in the air for a second before glancing at you, your hair blowing in the wind and you’re looking at him so softly. But he can’t. He sits silently
“It’s ok,” you say gently.
Pope looks at you again, resting your elbow on the car door holding your head in your hand staring straight out the window with a far away look in your eyes. Fuck, he thinks to himself, what the fuck is his problem? You tried to reach out, to understand him better and he shot you down. He wants to try and salvage this moment with you.
“Up here on the right is fine.” You say.
“Ok,” He pulls up along the sidewalk. You unbuckles your seatbelt and pushes the door open before pausing and turning to look at him.
“Thanks for the ride, it was really nice of you.” You give him a small smile and he notices it doesn't reach your eyes. You step out of the car and begin walking towards the apartment. You make it to the bottom of the exterior stairs before he gets out of the car and runs after you.
“Hey!” Pope calls, you stop at the first step and turn to face him, a touch of confusion on your face.
“I just wanted to say,” he says, stopping before you, “you can call me Andrew. If you want.”
“Ok,” You try to bite back a smile but, there it is, that small twinkle in your eyes. You turn on your heels and walk up the stairs. He backs away slowly, watching you, and when you reach your door you look over your shoulder to him.
“Goodnight, Andrew!” you yelled down, your voice filling the quiet night. He feels his cheeks go pink at your loud farewell, only able to raise his hand in a wave as he drags his feet back towards his car. He waits until her door is closed and he sees a light flicker on inside before driving away.
author's note: i received an ask from the lovely @felix24601 who wanted to know if Pope ever sees Lena again... I hope this answers your question ;) tried to get this out for our boys bday but I'm a day late :/ formatted a little differently, told in vignette-style narrative.
grey pope edit by @jakewearys
Andrew drives home along the long, meandering roads of Vermont on a hot evening in early June. He’s anxious to get home to his girls for no other reason than he misses you. It’s been eight years with you. Eight years that Andrew wouldn’t trade for anything. Eight years of loving you. Eight years of being seen by you. Eight years of being entirely in awe that you love him back. Six years with Gwen who is exactly like her mother: funny, precocious, and a voracious reader. She loves her four-year-old sisters fiercely. Rosalie is pure sweetness, a little shy, but undeniably silly with her family. You always say that she loves Andrew the most and it’s hard to argue against that claim, Rosie always opts for Daddy when there is a choice, Andrew tries not to let it go to his head. Blythe, you claim, is just like Andrew but he thinks she is far more perfect than he will ever be: she’s tough as nails, fearless, candid, and maybe a little reckless at times.
Andrew loves seeing the world through his daughter’s eyes, each with such a distinct perspective. He didn’t know children became themselves so quickly but there is no denying he has three incredibly unique girls in his hands. And despite your protesting he attributes it all to you, to your compassion, your patience, your humor, your resilience. He loves watching you be a mom. He loves finding the four of you snuggled up on the couch while you read to them, doing voices and gestures, each girl utterly enthralled with whatever story you’re telling. He loves how you not only let them be themselves but foster it, letting them explore whatever they find interesting: going to the library with Gwen, finger-painting with Rosalie, pushing Blythe on the tire swing outside.
He pulls up the driveway and can already hear screams and giggles from the back yard. He walks up the garden path and finds his girls, Gwen and Rosalie running hand in hand through the sprinkler, Blythe splashing around in the kiddie pool. You sit next to the inflatable pool making little splashes at Blythe as she squeals in delight. Gwen spots him first.
“Daddy!” Gwen yells, dropping Rosalie’s hand and running up to him, jumping into his arms in her soaking wet swimsuit. Andrew doesn’t care. Rosalie is not far behind her, trying her best to run as fast as her big sister, throwing herself at her father as he kneels down. Blythe climbs out of the blowup pool, slipping on the wet grass on her way out but bouncing right back up and running towards them. You only watch with a smile as your daughters completely drench him and his clothes, giggling, ecstatic in his arms. Andrew scoops all three girls up and peppers them each with kisses before kneeling down gently and placing them back on the grass. Blythe immediately darts back to the pool, throwing herself over the edge with a splash, Gwen follows her with a little laugh.
“Mommy too,” Rosalie takes his hand and points to where you sit in your little gingham swimsuit just soaking in the scene in front of you.
“Mommy needs a kiss too?” Andrew squeezes her tiny hand in his.
“Yeah,” Rosalie looks up at him, smiling with a finger in her mouth. He walks alongside her as she pulls him towards you. You’re helping Gwen with a pair of goggles as the pair of them stop alongside you, Rosalie plopping herself in your lap.
“Hello you,” you kiss Rosie’s cheek, bringing your arms down around her, before looking up at Andrew, beaming, “hello you,”
He sits down next to you on the soaking grass, cupping your face and kissing you softly as Rosalie giggles in your lap.
“Oooh,” Gwen says from the pool, “Daddy loves Mommy,”
Andrew pulls back, still holding your cheek in his hand, stroking it with his thumb.
“I do,” he says, placing another small kiss on your lips, “I love you,”
“I love you,” you say, looking down at his soaking shirt, “you’re all wet,”
“How did that happen?” Andrew turns to Gwen with an eyebrow raised playfully.
“I don’t know,” Gwen says, holding her hands up and shrugging her shoulders. He shakes his head and laughs as he peels the wet t-shirt off his body. He pulls you against his side, kissing your cheek while Rosalie crawls into his lap, resting against him like he’s her own personal chair.
“Are you girls getting hungry?” you ask, “it’s almost time to start getting ready for dinner,”
“Yeah,” Blythe says as she stands in the pool, rolling herself over the side before resting her little hands on your shoulder, “hot dogs!”
“We discussed hot dogs earlier,” you turn to Andrew, crinkling your nose.
“Hot dogs it is,” He scoops up Blythe and sits her in his lap next to Rosalie.
Andrew gives the twins a bath in the girls bathroom while you give Gwen a bath in yours, getting them all clean for dinner, dressing them in breezy nightgowns for the hot, summer evening. He insists you should take a moment to yourself while he gets dinner started. After dinner, the two of you bring your tuckered out girls upstairs to go to sleep. You’re putting the twins to bed while Andrew takes care of Gwen. After she falls asleep he wanders silently across the hall to watch you through the crack of the door you left ajar. You’re sitting on the floor resting your elbows on the foot of Bylthe’s bed and you’re singing softly.
As I roved out one evening fair
It bein’ the summertime to take the air
I spied a sailor and a lady gay
And I stood to listen
And I stood to listen to hear what they would say.
He said “Fair lady, why do you roam
For the day is spent and the night is on”
She heaved a sigh while the tears did roll
“For my dark-eyed sailor
For my dark-eyed sailor, so young and stout and bold.”
And standing there, listening to your voice, Andrew gets this flash, this memory, of you and Lena. It almost seems like a dream. You, eight years ago, sitting on the foot of Lena’s bed in Smurfs house singing the same old English folk song as she drifted to sleep. He hardly knew you then, it was the day after you had come over for dinner and beat his brothers in a game of pool. Before the Friday you and him danced in the club and he panicked and left. He remembers standing just past the doorway, listening to your soft voice, watching Lena’s tired eyes flutter.
His heart catches in his throat. He steps back, turning towards your bedroom and closing the door behind him. It all seems so long and still he can see it like it was only yesterday. Lena was the reason he had even found you at all. Before he had met you it was Lena who had given him a purpose, a reason to keep going. He pictures her little sleeping face. He wonders if he would even recognize her now. He doesn’t hear you push open the door, or you quick footsteps towards him, he doesn’t realize he’s crying.
“Hey,” you say, sitting next to him, resting your hands on his shoulder, “what happened? What’s wrong?”
He turns to you, your eyes scanning his face as if his worry will reveal itself to you there. He sniffs and drops his eyes back to his lap.
“I heard you singing,” he mutters.
“It was that bad, huh?” You say, rubbing his back, your hand making small circles. He breathes out a sad laugh.
“You sang that to Lena,” he whispers.
“Oh, Andrew,” you wrap your arms around him, tucking his head into your chest as he cries quietly. You stroke his curls as he holds onto you tightly, tears falling onto your t-shirt. After a few minutes he sniffs hard and sits back up a little, your arms still around him.
“You miss her,” you say softly.
“Yeah,” he lets out a heavy sigh, “I know- I know we did the right thing, I do- she deserved to have a normal life. But now- here- what I have- with you- with the girls- I- I don’t know…”
“You wish you could share it with her,” you offer softly.
“Yeah,” he mumbles, taking your hand in his, running his fingers over your knuckles.
“Yeah,” you nod in gentle understanding.
“Everything about Smurf… and my brothers and what we did… she had to be kept away from that,” he says, voice low, “but I wish… I wish I could have kept her… in some way,”
"I understand," you say softly, pulling him up the bed and pulling the quilt over you both. You held him in your arms until he fell asleep, his ragged breathing slowing to a quiet hum.
Technically, Andrew Cody was dead. At least that’s what the forged death certificate in California said, the one that Deran and Craig barely had time to get in order before they disappeared to Mexico after the jail break. A burned body, a bribed mortician, and Andrew Cody was no more. Any attempt by him to find Lena would just be too risky. Any attempt by him to find Deran and Craig would be the same. And as bad as he wishes he to see his niece and his brothers again what he has now, you, his daughters… it’s not something he will risk. Not ever. But as you lay awake at night you think about if things had been different, if things could be different.
“Did you pack the pump for the pool?” You call from the front door as Andrew plays tetris with the bags and boxes that he has to fit in the back of the car.
“Uh,” he scans the piles of stuff surrounding him before spotting it, “yeah it’s here,”
“I think Blythe would have killed us if we forgot,” you tease, and at the sound of her name Blythe comes storming through the house, wrapping her little arms around your legs, “whaddaya say, killer?” you look down at her smiling.
“I'm... a killer,” Blythe says, squeezing down on your thigh.
“Yes, you are,” you laugh, as she bounds from the front door running to Andrew.
“Daddy,” She says gripping onto his leg, “I help you,”
“You are so sweet,” Andrew grabs Blythe and throws her up in the air as she squeals in delight. He lifts her little t-shirt exposing her belly, blowing a raspberry onto her baby soft skin. She giggles and flails against him before he drops her back down.
“Ok, BB,” Andrew rests his hands on his hips, “what goes first?”
Blythe looks around at the mess of bags and toys. She points to her own little green duffle bag first. Andrew lets out a soft laugh.
“Alright you first,” Andrew picks up the bag, tucking it in the trunk, “but don’t tell your sisters,”
Blythe screams and runs back into the house in a fit of giggles. Andrew shakes his head with a smile watching her. He gets everything in the car in about twenty minutes before walking back into the house. He calls your name and follows your voice upstairs. You bump into each other in the middle of the staircase.
“Do the girls all have their snugglies?” You say as he catches your hips in his warm hands.
“Girls,” he calls, “front and center,” and the three of them appear at the bottom of the stairs, “where are your snuggles?”
Rosalie holds up her little brown bunny, Gwen turns and runs to the couch while you and Andrew walk down the stairs, grabbing her little pink piggy and Bylthe’s white lamby from the sofa before running back to you, placing the lamb in Blythe’s hands.
“Gang’s all here,” you say, kissing Andrew’s cheek, “ready my lovies?”
Your three girls squeal exuberant yes’s as your little family walks out to the car, securing them each in their car seats before pulling down the long gravel driveway.
You rented a lake house for Andrew’s birthday on Isle La Motte, the five of you getting to spend a whole week away for what Andrew insists is a vacation and what you insist is a birthday trip. The two of you playfully bickering about it while the girls watch Lilo & Stitch in the back seats.
“You better not have gotten me anything,” he squeezes your thigh.
“You can’t tell me what to do,” you lean over to him and place a quick kiss on his cheek, “I’m a grown up,” you mumble against his face. He sighs, trying to hide his smile, he’s still not really capable of being mad at you, not really…
“Girls, what are we doing this week?” You look in the rear view mirror at your three daughters, eyes all glued to the little DVD player in Gwen’s lap (you refuse to get them anything close to an iPad).
“Daddy’s birthday party,” Gwen says without looking up from the screen. You raise your eyebrows at him in victory before leaning close to him, kissing his neck softly.
“I have a surprise Daddy is really gonna like,” you whisper into his ear as he lets out a sort of strangled groan.
“Jesus Christ,” he says in a low rasp, “you’re gonna kill me,”
“No,” you smile, giving him another peck on the neck, “I like you too much,”
It only takes about an hour and half to get to the bridge that takes you over the water to the small Isle.
“Everyone look out the window,” Andrew says, as the shimmering lake comes into view. A chorus of little voices spill from the back seat, oohs, aahs, wows, coming from your daughters. You let out a little laugh at their collective reaction as Andrew squeezes on your thigh. It takes you a little over twenty minutes to get to the lake house. It’s much bigger than Andrew expected…
It is gorgeous, right on the shimmery shore, sprawling green lawn, a fruit bearing cherry tree. The girls in the back are already trying to wriggle out of their car seats, squealing in excitement. You get them all out and Andrew starts unloading the trunk. After he gets the rest of the bags inside he wanders around looking for the girls, who he hears giggling upstairs. They’re in a bedroom with a bunk bed and a twin bed, their little suitcases line up in the corner of the room.
“I get the top, right Daddy?” Gwen says, proudly perched on the top bunk.
“All you, Gwenny,” Andrew smiles. He wanders down the hall to where you call him, there are four bedrooms, one king bed, the girls room, a bunk bed and a twin, and two rooms with two doubles.
“Do they each need their own room?” He cocks an eyebrow at you as he walks into the primary suite.
“Oh, fuck off,” you wrap your arms around his neck as his hands find your waist, “this was the only house that was on the lake and had a grill and boats and a trampoline and you didn’t find the place so I will be accepting zero feedback at this time,” you kiss his lips softly.
“I love you,” he murmurs against your mouth.
“I know,” you kiss him again, before pulling back, taking his face in your hands, “I love you,”
Blythe runs into the room with one of her little swimsuits in her hand.
“We are going to swim!” She says, holding out the swimsuit to her dad.
“Is that right BB?” He kneels down, scooping her up, kissing her chubby little cheeks while she giggles in his arms. He walks to the girls room where Gwen and Rosalie are looking out the window at the lake.
“What do you think girls, time for a swim?” Andrew says. They all shout in agreement. The two of you get them in their swim suits and Andrew starts to put sunscreen on them while you slip on your bathing suit. The bottle of sunscreen is almost empty so Andrew goes back to your room to grab a new one and finds you in the bathroom in a dark green bikini, pulling your hair back into a ponytail. He groans at the sight of you, making you turn towards him, as he steps in the bathroom and shuts the door.
“What?” you laugh as he grabs your waist and pulls you flush against his body, placing sweet kisses on your neck.
“You cannot wear this,” he mumbles against your throat, running his fingers up one of the straps, slipping it off your shoulder. He pulls the little green top down and drops his head, capturing your nipple in his mouth making you gasp as you tangle your fingers in his hair.
“Andrew,” you sigh, “the girls are right out there,”
He moans against your hard bud before pulling away reluctantly, pulling your top back up, settling it in place.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You giggle against his mouth. Your little moment is cut off by a banging on the bathroom door and Gwen's little voice cutting through.
“Mommy can you braid my hair?” She says as you pull the door open, she holds two little pink hair ties out to you.
“Let’s finish sunscreen and then I’ll put up your hair ok my love?” You say, taking the hair ties, then her hand in yours. The five of you get downstairs to the covered back porch where you finish sunscreen and braid Gwen’s auburn curls. Andrew puts Rosalie’s fiery red hair up in a little ponytail and then Blythe’s chocolate hair up in tiny space buns. The girls start to run across the grass towards the little beach and dock that go right to the lake while you and Andrew trail behind them hand in hand.
“No getting in the water without Mommy or Daddy!” You call from behind your giggling girls.
“You still need sunscreen,” Andrew says, running his fingers over your knuckles.
“Oh man, I hope there’s someone around who can help with that,” you wrap your other hand around his bicep and kiss his cheek.
“I might know a guy,” Andrew squeezes your hand. You get to the shore and the girls dip their toes in the water while Andrew rubs sunscreen on your back in slow, deep circles. He leans forward and places a kiss on your neck.
“I think you’re enjoying this too much,” you mutter, as he continues to ghost his lips over your neck.
“Mmm,” he hums against your throat, bringing his hands around your front, rubbing sunscreen on your stomach, “I think I’m enjoying it the right amount,”
You laugh against him as he squeezes you back against his chest.
“Your turn,” you say, pushing him in front of you. He feels you draw a heart with the sunscreen before rubbing it against the ridges and bumps of his strong back. His eyes start to flutter shut at the feeling but Blythe comes running up to the two of you and grabs Andrew's hand.
“Daddy,” she says, pointing to the dock that juts out into the water, “jump in,”
“You wanna jump in?” Andrew smiles down at his little dare devil.
“Yeah,” she squeals with a little jump. The two of them walk down the dock, stopping a little marker reading 6ft deep.
“Daddy go, first” Blythe says, pushing Andrew towards the water.
“Ok,” Andrew laughs, “I’ll go first,”
He takes a few paces back on the dock.
“Tell me if I make a big splash ok?” He says to Blythe who claps her hands in agreement. Andrew takes three big steps and cannonballs into the water, surfacing to the sound of Blythe’s delighted squeals and giggles. Andrew swims to where the water is a little shallower, rippling against the bottom of his chest.
“You did big splash Daddy!” Blythe says, stepping toward the edge of the dock, “me too!”
She reaches her little arms out to Andrew and jumps into the water, into his arms, he lets her dunk for only a second before pulling her up against his chest.
“Again!” Blythe reaches towards the dock and Andrew swims her over, lifting her back onto the warm metal. Gwen joins the two of them cannonballing into the water, taking turns with Blythe jumping into their fathers arms. Andrew turns to glance at the shore where you and Rosalie sit making little sandcastles and collecting small rocks to decorate your creation, smiling at the pair of you. After Rosie is thoroughly satisfied with her creation, sticking a little leaf in the top like a flag she drags you to the waters edge wanting to join her sisters and Daddy.
“Mommy,” she says, reaching up to you, you scoop her up, wading into the cool water. It feels like heaven against your warm skin. Rosalie wraps her arms tight around your neck as you get deeper. As soon as you get close enough to Andrew Rosalie reaches one of her little hands out to him.
“Daddy,” Rosalie squeals.
“Rosie!” Andrew grabs her from you, turning towards the shore “what did you make?”
“A sandcastle,” she smiles, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“So beautiful,” Andrew kisses her rosy cheek.
“Mommy!” Blythe shouts, clearly ready to jump in again.
“Yes, my little fishy?” you turn to her, “you gonna jump?”
Blythe doesn’t answer, she simply leaps from the dock, landing in your arms in a splash. The five of you swim and splash around in the water until the air starts to cool and you decide it’s time for baths. The three girls all fit in the large bathtub of the primary bedroom, you and Andrew sit on the floor in your damp swim suits scrubbing the girls hair, combing it out with your fingers. You put them in breezy little dresses for dinner, slipping a black and white gingham dress on yourself.
The girls run around in the grass as Andrew grills burgers and corn on the cob. The five of you sit outside on the little picnic table for dinner, Andrew cutting the corn kernels off the cob for Rosalie while Gwen and Blythe gnaw on their corn like little maniacs. Bedtime is easy, the girls worn out from playing and being in the sun. Andrew loves being able to put them to bed with you, he lays in Rosalie’s bed while you sit on Blythe’s, Gwen snuggled against your side while you read softly to them.
After the girls are all tucked in, the cool breeze floating through their window, you and Andrew sit in the large wooden chairs in the back yard. It’s almost eight when the darkness starts to settle around you, you somehow ending up on Andrews lap, a half finished bottle of rose resting carelessly on the grass. You trace little shapes on the fabric of his t-shirt before speaking softly.
“You know I would do anything for you, right?” you say. Andrew shifts in his chair so he can look down at you.
“Yeah,” he brushes a piece of hair behind your ear, “I would do anything for you too,”
“I know,” you say. In the distance you both hear the low rumble of a car getting closer.
“I need you to wait here,” you say, standing, pressing your hand down on his chest.
“What?” He asks, “is someone here?”
“Can you just- can you just wait here?” You ask with a pleading smile, slowly backing away, walking around the front of the house. Andrews stands but stays where he is, looking towards where you disappeared, hearing the opening and closing of car doors. He looks up to the window of the room where his girls sleep. He sees movement in the corner of his eye and his head drops back down to see just you rounding the corner. Your hands are clasped nervously in front of you.
“Happy birthday,” you say, and two large figures step out of the darkness beside you. Andrew’s brain doesn’t process what he’s seeing for a minute, like everything besides you is fuzzy and warped. His body reacts before his mind can, walking towards you, throwing his arms around them.
“Hey Pope,” Deran says softly, wrapping his arm around his brother.
“Long time no see,” Craig says, resting his head against Andrews. Andrew only breathes in a panicked, shaking breath, gripping onto his brothers like he’s not sure if they’re real. He holds onto them for so long, tears sliding down his cheeks, before he pulls back, keeping his hands firmly on their shoulders. He just stares at them as they smile back at him. Deran’s hair is buzzed but he still has his beard, he looks broader, stronger. Craig's hair is cut to just below his chin, besides that he looks exactly the same.
“Your hair,” Deran says, looking over Andrew with the same intensity. Andrew breathes out a laugh, running his fingers through his curls which have begun to turn salt and pepper.
“Your hair,” Andrew says, running his hand over the soft buzz of Deran’s head, “I- how are you here?”
Craig nods his chin towards where you’ve stepped to the side, trying to give them space. Your hands are clasped together under your chin as you look at Andrew with a mix of love, hope, and worry.
“Do you like your present?” You say softly. Andrew takes two long strides over to you, wrapping you in his arms, lifting you in a rib crushing hug.
“I love you so much,” he mumbles into your hair, “more than anything,”
“I love you more than anything,” you whisper back. He pulls away from you slightly.
“How?” he looks between you and his brothers.
“Can’t tell ya,” you shrug, crinkling your nose, “otherwise I’d have to kill you,”
Craig grins and shoves his hands in his pockets while Deran smiles at the two of you.
“I was thinking they could stay with us,” you say, running your fingers down his neck, “get to know the girls…?”
“Couldn’t believe it when we heard,” Craig teases.
“Three girls,” Deran lets out a low whistle.
“You’ll like them,” Andrew smiles, squeezing your hip, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “do you guys- do you want a beer? I think we only brought a six pack… but that can be remedied tomorrow,”
“There’s one more thing,” you say, resting your hand on Andrew’s chest, “another part of your present,”
“Uncle Pope,” a soft voice cuts through the airy darkness of the night. Andrew turns and he swears his heart stops for a moment. Her dark hair is short, brushing against her shoulders, her brown eyes big and warm, her smile is small but eager. How could he ever think he wouldn’t be able to recognize her? Andrew steps forward and pulls her into him. The last time he held her he had to bend down to hold her properly, now her head rests just below his shoulder as she squeezes him.
“Lena,” he whispers into her hair, arms wrapped around her slight frame. Andrew feels his eyes start to sting with tears again as he pulls back, holding her by the shoulders, getting another good look at her.
“Oh my god,” he breathes out a laugh as tears slip down his cheeks. Lena’s eyes well up too as she buries her face in his chest again.
“I missed you, Uncle Pope,” she mumbles into his shirt.
“I missed you too, kid,” Andrew says, stroking her hair softly.
The five of you headed to bed a little after the surprise arrival, Deran, Craig, and Lena exhausted from traveling all day, but Andrew can’t sleep and he’s making it your problem.
“How? How did you find them all?” He whispers as he holds you, facing him, in bed.
“I’m not telling!” You say in a hushed yell, playing with the curls on the back of his neck. Andrew gives you a pleading look and squeezes your waist in desperation and you sigh, “Lena was the easiest. I just called Ty and asked him to check the DCFS database and there she was, right where you left her. You made the right call, she stayed with Lily and Davis all this time.”
Andrew feels his chest tighten slightly. He hopes so. He still wonders if it would have been better if he had kept Lena… but this was good, she seems good.
“Is she eighteen?” Andrew asks, “how did she get here by herself?”
“You’ll have to ask her,” you smile, kissing his shoulder, “Deran and Craig were much harder. I wasn’t even sure how to go about it at first but I remembered Baz’s old girlfriend, Lucy. There was that time he left Lena at Smurfs for the weekend when they went to Mexico together. So I asked Ty to find her and give her a message to pass on to them.”
“What was the message?” Andrew scrunches his eyebrows.
“Just that I was looking for them,” you shrug, “I knew they’d find me.”
“You’re unbelievable,” he cups your face in his hand, stroking your cheek softly, “I can’t believe you did this for me,”
“You can’t?” You smack his shoulder playfully, “this seems exactly like the kind of sweet and brilliant thing I would do,”
Andrew smirks and pulls you on top of him as he rolls onto his back.
“I love you so fucking much,” he says, tucking your head into his shoulder. You place a soft kiss on his throat.
“I love you so fucking much,” you say, tucking your hands beneath his shoulders, snuggling into him. He feels your breathing slow as you fall asleep on top of him but he’s still too excited to sleep. Lena. Deran. Craig. They’re all here. His family.
Andrew wakes to the sounds of little footsteps and quiet giggles, before he can even open his eyes he feels tiny hands on his face.
“Daddy,” Rosalie whispers, kissing his cheek. He groans and wraps his arms around his daughter, feeling the bed dip next to him where you sit with a squirming Blythe in your arms and Gwen launches herself onto the bed.
“Snuggle party!” Gwen squeals, flopping on the center of the bed, wrapping her arms around you and Bylthe, her back pressed against Andrew. Andrew kisses Gwen’s tangled hair as she giggles.
“My girls,” you say, slowly untangling Blythe’s hair gently with your fingers, “we have to talk about something ok?”
“Ok,” Gwen says contently while her sisters hum in affirmation. Andrew feels relieved you’re going to take this one. How exactly do you explain that he has long lost brothers and a long lost niece who the girls have never heard of, never mind seen before, who are asleep in this very house?
“Daddy got a very special surprise for his birthday last night, can I tell you what it is?” The girls all squeal in affirmation. “Well, did you know that Daddy brothers?”
“A brother?” Rosalie looks at her dad.
“It’s like a boy sister,” Gwen says confidently.
“Yeah,” you laugh and nod, “but Daddy’s brothers have been away for a long time, they live very far away so they don’t get to see Daddy very much, and they’ve never met you! But they really wanted to. So for Daddy’s birthday his brothers are here.”
“Right now?” Gwen asks.
“Right now,” you say. “They’re asleep in their rooms. But they are so fun and nice, they love to play just like you three. So we’re gonna swim together, play tag, color, and do lots of fun things.”
Gwen is staring at you trying her hardest to absorb all the information you are giving her, Blythe is only half paying attention, perking up when you mention playing tag, and Rosalie looks a little reluctant, her arms wrapped around Andrew’s neck.
“What are their names, Daddy?” Gwen turns to Andrew.
“Deran and Craig,” he says, voice still slightly hoarse from sleep, “I’m like you Gwen, I’m the oldest, the big brother,”
“Really?” Gwen squeals, fully turning her little body towards Andrews.
“Really,” he smiles, kissing her cheek.
“And there’s one more thing,” you say, “you have a cousin, she’s here too,”
“What’s that?” Blythe says from your lap.
“A cousin is like… a bonus sister.” You tuck a piece of Blythe’s hair behind her ear. “She plays and does all sorts of things sisters do. Her name is Lena,”
“Lena,” Rosalie repeats, like she’s practicing.
“Are they awake now?” Gwen asks, as if the duration of this conversation was enough time to sleep in. You glance at your phone, 7:01AM.
“Mm, probably not, they had to fly alllll the way across the country to get here,” stretching out the word ‘all’ to emphasize the distance they traveled, “but they’ll be awake soon,” you say.
“Why don’t we go down stairs and make pancakes for them while we wait?” Andrew says, squeezing Gwen and Rosalie into his chest. The three girls all giggle and squeal a chorus of yes’s and the five of you walk down to the kitchen.
The girls are all buzzing with excitement to meet their new mysterious family members, becoming more restless as more time goes by. You’re able to distract them for a while with chocolate chip pancakes and a ride in the hammock, Rosalie and Blythe squishing Gwen in the middle as Andrew rocks the hammock gently back and forth. The girls get bored quickly and are just being lifted out of the hammock as the screen door at the back of the house swings open and you step out with Lena. Rosalie, Blythe, and Gwen just stare at her from across the yard, not sure whether to run towards you or keep a safe distance with their dad. Andrew starts towards the house, the girls following behind like little ducklings.
“Oh my god,” Lena breathes as they get closer, “she looks just like him,”
You don’t have to ask to know that she’s talking about Gwen. She is an adorable, spitting image of her dad, wild auburn curls and bright hazel eyes.
“Morning kid,” Andrew wraps his arms around Lena, as if to check that she’s still real, “you sleep ok?”
“Like a baby,” Lena smiles at him before turning her gaze to the girls, crouching down so she’s at eye level with them, “you must be Gwen,” she says to your eldest. Gwen seems giddy that Lena already knows who she is. Andrew’s heart squeezes in his chest.
“Yeah,” Gwen twists her fingers together with a smile on her face.
“I’m Lena,” she smiles before turning to the twins, “and are you… Blythe?”
“Yes!” Blythe claps her hands together, equally excited as her older sister.
“So, you must be Rosalie,” Lena smiles warmly at her and Andrew can feel a tear slipping down his cheek. Rosalie nods shyly and takes Blythe’s hand in hers.
“Daddy, why are you crying?” Gwen says, running over to him, wrapping her little arms around his leg, “you have a boo boo?”
“No, my love,” he says, brushing back her curls, before scooping her up, “I’m happy,”
“Don’t cry, Daddy,” Gwen wraps her arms around his neck. Lena stands as the other two girls run over to their father.
“It’s ok, Daddy,” Rosalie says, tugging on his shorts while Blythe stares up at him.
“Yeah,” he says, tucking a piece of Rosalie’s fiery hair behind her ear, “hey, I bet Lena needs some pancakes, who wants to help make her some?”
“Me!” The three girls shout in unison as you all walk back in the house. Gwen, Rosalie, and Blythe all sit on the kitchen stools while Andrew makes more pancakes. Andrew reaches for the chocolate chips, turning towards Lena.
“You still like chocolate chip pancakes?” He raises an eyebrow at her.
“Depends,” Lena smiles, “can you still flip them without a spatula?” She says with a pointed look at the red spatula sitting on the counter. Andrew lets out a sigh.
“When I was little,” Lena starts, turning towards the girls, “your dad would always flip the pancake up in the air and then catch it back in the pan,”
“Daddy!” Blythe yells, “flip the pancake!”
“You’ve just created three little monsters,” You teasingly shake your head at Lena. Andrew picks up the pan, shaking it back and forth, loosening the pancake from where it sticks on the hot metal.
“Ready?” Andrew looks at Lena first before turning towards his daughters, “girls?”
“Ready, Daddy!” Gwen claps her hands together. Andrew bites down on his lip, extending his wrist quickly, lifting slightly, then pulling back towards him, launching the pancake in the air before catching it smack in the center of the sizzling pan. The girls all erupt in cheers, Lena giggling while you beam at your husband.
“You’ve still got it, Uncle Pope!” Lena says, a smile on her face. The three girls flit around Lena as she eats her pancakes outside, asking them questions about their favorite colors, toys, movies… she’s so patient with them in a way that reminds Andrew of you.
You’re still inside, making the rest of the pancakes when Craig and Deran saunter downstairs.
“Hey you two,” you smile, “sleep ok?”
“So fucking good,” Craig says.
“You can’t swear around kids, man,” Deran gives his brother a light shove.
“Eh, they’re outside,” you shrug, handing them each a plate of pancakes, “wanna say hi?”
“Let’s fucking do this,” Craig says and Deran rolls his eyes lovingly. The three of you step outside and see Andrew, Lena, and the girls sitting under a big tree, Lena showing them how to make daisy chains with the small, flowering weeds. They all look up once the door drops with a smack behind you.
Rosalie, Blythe, and Gwen all stand just behind their father, not sure what to think about these two huge men that just came outside. Blythe speaks first.
“Is this your brothers, Daddy?” Blythe points at them, twirling a little bouquet of flowers in her other hand.
“Yeah, those are my brothers,” Andrew smiles at her. Blythe takes quick little steps towards them, stopping right next to you.
“Hi,” Derans gives a small wave.
“This is Blythe,” you say, resting your hand on her head.
“Yeah, my name is… Blythe,” Blythe confirms, eyeballing the two men.
“My name is Deran,” he says, setting his plate on the table, sitting down on the wooden bench, “whatcha got there?” He points to the little white flowers in her hand.
“Flowers!” Blythe plucks one out of the bunch, “here… Deran,” she holds it out for him. He takes it gingerly.
“Thank you,” he smiles at her.
“Did you find all those yourself?” Craig sits next to his brother.
“Uh, what is your name?” Blythe takes your hand.
“I’m Craig,” he says.
“Craig,” Blythe repeats, “I find them there,” she points to where Andrew and the other girls are sitting, watching, “here,” she holds one out to him and he takes it and tucks it behind his ear, making Blythe giggle.
“Does that look ok?” Craig smiles at her.
“Looks pretty,” Blythe giggles.
“Thank you,” Craig dramatically flips his hair back a little, making her laugh harder.
“Oh the two of you are gonna be trouble,” you sigh.
Blythe & Craig
You were right. Blythe and Craig get on like a house on fire, all week they have been attached at the hip, Blythe even going so far as to ask to have a sleepover with Craig on the third night. As much as it makes his heart melt, Andrew does not oblige his daughter’s request, for his brother's sake most of all… nothing ruins a good night sleep quiet like a kick to the chest by a four year old. Right now the two of them are in the lake, Craig throwing her up in the air and catching her while Andrew tries not to have a heart attack.
“Craig!” Andrew shouts from the little beach, “not so high!”
“Oh,” Craig says, holding Blythe against his side, “whatdya think B, not so high?”
“Higher!” Blythe kicks her little feet in the water.
Blythe squeals with glee as Craig tosses her up, catching her with a splash. Eventually, she gets tired out and sits on the dock watching her Uncle Craig while he does cannonballs, trying to make “the biggest splash ever,” according to her. She giggles and claps and he obliges her while she tells him to jump in over and over again.
Blythe decides that it is now her turn to make the biggest splash ever and jumps from the dock into Craig's arms, both of them giggling with pure delight. Blythe must have jumped in over thirty times but Craig was thrilled to oblige each jump from his little dare-devil niece.
Craig shows Blythe how he can do hand-stands under water and she becomes determined to do them as well. This proves to be a bit of a challenge for her, her floaties getting in the way, her inability to really hold her breath getting in the way even more. But Craig makes do, holding her upside down, her fingertips dipping in the water.
“You’re doing an over-water handstand,” he says as Blythe giggles, making little splashes with her hands.
“Daddy! Look!” Blythe screams to Andrew who watches from the shore, sitting next to Gwen and Lena who build a sandcastle together.
“Look at you BB!” Andrew calls back, trying not to let his fear slip in his voice. He knows Craig would never hurt Blythe and he knows if any of his kids could handle being dropped face first into a lake it was Blythe… but still, he feels a lot better when Craig flips Blythe right side up and rests her on his shoulders.
“When did you get so tall?” Craig looks up at Blythe as she grabs onto his head with a laugh.
“I’m growing,” Blythe raises her arms up, “I’m… lake monster!” She growls.
“Oh my god!” Craig cries out in mock terror, “there’s a lake monster right behind me!”
“RAH!” Blythe grabs around Craig’s head and he falls into the water, sticking an arm out to catch her and he sinks below the surface. He pops his head up out of the water and Blythe is a pile of giggles, totally limp in his arms.
Craig grabs her little ankles as she floats on her back, her green floaties keeping her buoyant, pulling her around the water slowly.
“You’re like a sea-snake,” Craig says.
“Ssssssss,” Blythe hisses, making her uncle laugh.
That night Blythe insists on sitting next to Craig at dinner. She lets him cut up her cheeseburger for her and steals potato chips off his plate. At one point she crawls right into his lap, her eyes starting to flutter closed as the light in the sky dims. Craig looks down at her little body in his arms with a glint of wonder in his eyes.
“Can I carry her upstairs?” He asks softly.
“Oh my god, yes,” you say, leaning back in a lawn chair as Andrew scoops up a nearly passed out Rosalie and Gwen walks sleepily holding her fathers hand.
You and Deran start doing the dishes while Lena sits on a stool in the kitchen.
“I can’t believe you have three girls,” Lena says as you dry a platter, “I mean I can believe it, Pope is such a girl dad, but also like…” Lena just gestures like her mind is exploding, making you laugh softly.
“What the hell is a girl dad?” Deran says, washing a plate.
“It’s like…” Lena looks up thinking, “it’s like a man who is just supposed to have daughters,”
“Yeah!” Lena says, your heart flutters at her defensiveness, “Uncle Pope was always kind and sensitive and sweet. He took care of me when everyone else ignored me, my own dad… but Uncle Pope didn’t. He was a little rough around the edges but he treated me like my feelings mattered. And now… you can just tell how much he loves the girls… he would do anything for them, just like he did for me.”
“You should tell him that,” you say, running the dish towel over another plate. Lena gives you a small smile.
“I will,” she says, turning to Deran, “anyway… that’s why he’s a girl dad,”
“Well when you say it like that,” Deran offers a gentle smile, “yeah that seems like Pope,”
“It is,” Lena smiles.
Gwen & Lena
Gwen is entirely enchanted with Lena, all the girls are, but it is clear that Gwen likes her the best. Lena braids Gwen’s hair every morning, sometimes in the evening too if Gwen asks nicely. Lena teaches her how to play mermaids in the lake, every day picking new tail colors and new aquatic powers. She tells Gwen stories about her Dad, Lena’s beloved Uncle Pope, which Gwen listens to with intensity. The story of you and Lena pushing her dad in the pool is Gwen’s favorite and she is determined to play this trick on her dad as soon as possible. Lena decides that you can be trusted with this plan just like she trusted you all those years ago, and so you set the trap.
“Hey Andrew?” you say, stroking the curls on the back of Andrew’s neck as the two of you sit on little beach chairs on the shore.
“Yes, my love?” He says, waking from the light nap he had accidentally dozed off to, squeezing your thigh.
“Can you just go make sure Lena and Gwen are ok?” You nod your head to the end of the dock where Lena hangs onto the rounded metal edge and Gwen peers over, gripping the ladder, looking into the water intently.
“Yeah,” he leans over to you and kisses your cheek sweetly before rising and walking slowly towards the end of the dock, “what’s going on girls?” he calls as he approaches them.
“Gwen dropped her goggles in the water and we can’t see them,” Lena says, looking up at him, treading water gently.
“Uh oh,” Andrew crouches down next to Gwen, “maybe Deran can swim down and find them-”
And then, with all her might, Gwen pushes Andrew off the side of the dock. He splashes gracelessly into the water, arms flailing as he tries to keep his balance. He resurfaces to Gwen in a fit of giggles and Lena laughing alongside him in the water.
“We got you, Daddy!” Gwen shouts, as Andrew runs his fingers through his curls, a smile of disbelief on his face.
“I told her about the pool at Smurfs,” Lena says, still giggling, “do you remember?”
“How could I forget?” He playfully rolls his eyes but the truth was he would never forget that day. Lena had been so happy, so playful. It was the night he kissed you for the first time, the night he had you for the first time, he can remember every minute detail of that day: your soaked clothes, your pink lace bra, you in his green t-shirt, you naked in the pool, you on top of him in his bed…
“Can’t believe you fell for that,” your voice brings him back from his daydream.
“You were in on this?” Andrew looks up at you from the water, “my own wife? The mother of my children?”
“Correct,” you nod as Andrew climbs up the ladder, shaking out his wet hair. Before you can even react he reaches out and grabs you by the waist jumping back in the water with you locked in his arms. You surface with a fake look of surprise on your face.
“How dare you,” you splash at him before swimming back away from him, “Gwen,” you call to your giggling daughter on the dock.
“Yeah Mommy?” Gwen says.
“Get Daddy,” you say. Gwen leaps from the dock splashing down right in front of Andrew. Her little head pops out of the water and she wraps her arms around his neck screaming and trying to pull him under.
“Get him, Gwen!” Lena shouts.
“Don’t- encourage her-” Andrew says through a mouthful of water while Gwen shrieks. Andrew maneuvers her around, lifting her out of the water and throwing her towards you. She lands with a splash, swimming the rest of the way towards you giggling.
That evening after dinner Lena asks if Gwen wants to have a sleepover in her room to which Gwen agrees with exuberant enthusiasm. Andrew walks by the door that was kept ajar and glances through the crack at Lena and Gwen snuggled up on one of the beds as Lena reads out loud. His eyes flick down to the cover and his heart tightens: A Wrinkle in Time. He stands outside the door, listening to Lena’s soft voice.
“In the forest evening was already beginning to fall, and they walked in silence. Charles and Fortinbras gamboled on ahead. Calvin walked with Meg, his fingers barely touching her arm in a protective gesture. This has been the most impossible, the most confusing afternoon of my life, she thought, yet I don’t feel confused or upset anymore; I only feel happy. Why?” Lena says as Gwen tries her hardest to stay awake, “‘Maybe we weren’t meant to meet before this,’ Calvin said. ‘I mean, I knew who you were in school and everything, but I didn’t know you. But I’m glad we’ve met now, Meg. We’re going to be friends, you know.’ ‘I’m glad, too,’ Meg whispered, and they were silent again…”
Rosalie & Deran
Rosalie is the most hesitant about the guests in the house, staying close to you and Andrew for the first day. On the second day she wanders into the kitchen to find Deran eating a handful of chocolate chips. He looks at her like he himself had just been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. Slowly he crouches down and holds out a little chocolate chip to her, she takes it a bit reluctantly but eats it with a little smile on her face.
“Don’t tell you mom and dad,” Deran says in a pretend whisper, “it’s a secret ok?”
“Shhhh!” Rosalie holds a finger up to her lips, she knows exactly what Deran is asking her to do.
“Shhh,” Deran smiles and imitates her little movements, “do you want to come outside with me?”
“Uhh, ok,” Rosalie says, and when Deran stands and turns to walk out the back door he feels her little hand clasping around his.
Rosalie becomes his little shadow. She collects rocks along the shoreline and Deran holds them for her, using his shirt as a basket.
“This one,” Rosalie says, holding out a small red stone for him to take.
“That’s a really good one,” Deran says, examining the rock before dropping it into his shirt.
He shows her how to skip stones, not the ones she had collected, of course, but she gives it a couple tries and decides she likes watching him do it better.
“Again,” she giggles, small hand gripping onto the sleeve of his t-shirt.
“Alright,” he says, “ready?”
“Yeah!” She does a little jump. They watch the smooth stone skip across the shimmery water before sinking beneath the surface, “ten!” she exclaims.
“Ten!?” Deran says, turning to her, knowing the stone hit the water maybe five times maximum, “are you sure?”
“Yes!” Rosalie claps her hands together and Deran just smiles at her.
The two of them pick cherries from the cherry tree, Deran lifting her up and setting her on his shoulders, while she drops the red fruit into a bowl in her uncle’s hand.
“How many more do we need, Rosie?” Deran asks as the bowl starts to get full.
“A hundred!” She squeals.
“A hundred!?” Deran laughs, “ok, a hundred more,”
The two of them sit on the grass beneath the shade of the tree while he cuts the cherries open with a paring knife, plucking out the little pits for her, their fingertips getting stained a purplish-red color. Rosalie hums with contentment eating the sweet fruit, her lips turning cherry red. Deran digs little holes for her to plant the cherry pits so they could grow their own cherry trees which Rosalie seems delighted by.
In the late afternoon when the sun hangs heavy with warmth Deran wanders down to the lake finding you and Rosalie on the shore splashing around in the crisp water.
“Uncle Deran,” Rosalie shrieks when she spots him, “you swimming?”
“Yeah,” he smiles down at her, “you wanna swim with me?”
“Uh,” she turns and looks to you for support.
“She’s not the biggest swimmer,” you say with a little shrug.
“Oh, well,” Deran looks around the little beach, spotting a paddle board resting alongside a small wooden shack, he jogs over and disappears into the shack, emerging with a small life jacket and grabs the board. He drops it in the water, pouring handfuls of water over the surface, wiping off the dust that had settled on it after not being used for a while.
“You can float on this,” Deran says, sitting on his knees on the board, showing her, “and I can push you around, like a boat,”
“Wow, Rosie,” You gasp in enthusiasm looking at Rosalie with wide eyes, “what do you think?”
“Yeah,” she smiles.
“Yeah?” You repeat, “that’s my girl,”
“This will help you float,” Deran snaps the little life vest on her, “just in case. But I’ll be right there, I’ll catch you,”
“Ok,” Rosalie says, taking his hand. They walk to wear the board floats in the shallow water and Deran lifts her up and places her on her butt on the center of the board.
“Ready?” Deran says, wading further into the water.
“Watch me mommy!” Rosalie says as Deran pulls the board deeper.
“I’m watching Rosie,” you call back with a little laugh. Deran pushes the board smooth and gentle through the water while Rosalie splashes her feet in the cool lake. He pushes her around for a while, hopping on the back of the board himself, until she decides she wants to be back on land.
“You wanna surf in?” Deran says to her.
“How?” Rosalie asks, eyes wide.
“I’ll stand you up and hold you,” Deran paddles them towards the shallow water where he can stand, “and we’ll ride the wave in to your mom,”
“Ok,” Rosalie says as Deran slides off the board into the water. He grabs Rosie with one hand, holding her steady and pushes the board forward with the other. Rosalie is squealing in delight.
“Mommy!” She shouts, “I’m surfing!”
“Look at you!” You call back from your spot on the shore. Deran lifts her off the board once it gently runs into the sand and Rosalie runs towards you.
“Hey surfer girl,” you say as she falls into your lap, “how was that?”
“Fun!” Rosie claps her hands.
“What do you say to Uncle Deran?” You say, nodding towards him as he walks up along the beach. Rosalie scrambles from your lap and wraps her little arms around his legs.
“Thank you, Uncle Deran,” Rosie says looking up at him and Deran swears his heart melts a little.
The Family
The fifth night at the lake is Andrew’s birthday. The girls all baked a cake in the afternoon while Andrew, Craig, and Deran were relegated to the yard. Lena held Rosalie in her lap, Bylthe was resting on your hip, and Gwen was standing on the stool carefully placing the cherries on the little frosting swirls Lena had made.
“Just take a little bit,” Lena says to Rosie, pinching a few pink sprinkles in her fingers and letting them fall onto the cake. Rosalie copies Lena, dropping the sprinkles on the white icing. Blythe sticks her hand into the container of pink confectionery and plops her little handful down on the cake.
“Beautiful, girls,” you say, licking some icing off your fingers. You set the cake on the counter away from where little fingers can reach before helping the girls change into light cotton dresses before putting on your own white cotton slip dress.
“I hope you’re my present,” Andrew whispers as he wraps his arms around you from behind, drawing little circles on your hip bone while his other hand splays against your stomach, “you look beautiful,”
You giggle as he places a kiss on your neck, handing him a plate of meat to grill, sending him out the back door with a smack to his ass. Lena bounces with them on the trampoline while the grown ups take care of dinner. Plates are piled high with chicken skewers, grilled shrimp, cole slaw, potato salad, grilled corn, the absolute works. The eight of you sit on a tapestry of picnic blankets laughing and talking and eating.
Gwen, Blythe, and Rosalie quickly lose interest in dinner when fireflies start to flicker across the yard. You show the girls how to catch them gently then let them go. They run around in a fit of giggles chasing the lightning bugs that flit above the grass. Lena goes to help them when none of them are successful. Deran and Craig begin to take the plates inside. You and Andrew sit on the picnic blankets, him sitting with his legs out, leaning back on his arms, you between his thighs, resting on his chest.
“Did you ever think this is what your life would be like?” You ask, drawing little stars on his knee. Andrew lets out a soft sigh.
“No,” he says, “I didn’t think I’d get this lucky… did you?”
“Yeah,” you say softly, “I did… when I met you,”
Andrew brings his hand up to your jaw, cupping it in his palm, tilting your chin up so you look at him. He strokes your cheek softly, saying nothing at first, just staring at you with pure love as you look back at him the same way.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says softly, “I don’t even think I’d know to want any of this without you,”
“I love you,” you say softly, pulling him down, kissing him with devotion, “so much,”
“I love you so fucking much,” he whispers agasint your lips.
Lena & Andrew
You bring the cake out the back door as the girls crawl all over Andrew in excited anticipation, an off-tune melody of happy birthday cutting through the cool evening breeze.
“Can you help me blow the candles out?” Andrew says to his three girls, all snugly in his arms. They all squeal in affirmation, “Ready? 1,2,3”
The four of them blow out the candles together while you take a picture, your heart exploding in your chest. You all eat cake until the little girls crash from their sugar high. Craig carries Gwen and Deran carries Blythe and Rosalie, both volunteering to get them to bed for their brother, leaving Lena with you and Andrew.
Lena wanders over to the picnic table, grabbing two parcels wrapped in plain brown paper before sitting next to Andrew on the blanket.
“Happy birthday, Uncle Pope,” Lena says, handing them to him.
“Aw, Lena,” Andrew says, taking them reluctantly, “you being here was the present,”
“Yeahhhh, but you have to accept it anyway,” Lena shrugs with a smile.
He unwraps the paper slowly of the smaller present first, turning over the gift in his hand. A tall, thin frame with the photostrip of him and Lena from the photobooth. Lena sticks her tongue out in the first photo, holds up little peace signs with her fingers in the second, sticks her fingers in the corner of her mouth and pulls down in the third, and wraps her arms around Andrew’s neck in the last one. He just beams at her in every picture.
Andrew brings his hand up to his mouth taking in a shaking breath. He places the frame down gently and grabs Lena by the shoulder, pulling her into him. He holds her for a while, trying and failing to not completely break down. Eventually he catches his breath and pulls back to see that Lena has tears in her eyes as well.
“How do you still have this?” Andrew says, touching the frame gently.
“It’s one of my most prized possessions,” Lena smiles but her voice shakes a little, “that’s just a copy though, I can’t part with mine,”
Andrew pulls her in again and the two of them just hold each other before Andrew tucks her under his arm, resting his head on hers.
“I was so sad,” Lena says softly, “and you tried so hard to make me happy. I just want you to know that I knew. I knew how hard you were trying. I knew you would do anything for me. And you did. But I missed you. So much,”
Andrew sniffs back another sob and rubs Lena’s shoulder. You watch them with tears in your eyes.
“I missed you too, kid,” Andrew says, his voice hoarse. He glances at the other wrapped gift, “is that one gonna make me cry too?”
“Probably,” Lena giggles through tears.
“Oh man,” Andrew sighs.
“Actually,” Lena pushes the present towards you, “you should open this one,”
“Me?” Your eyebrows raise, “no come on, it’s for him,”
“Just open it,” she says, pushing it further towards you. You sigh and take the present, peeling open the taped sides. Your mouth drops open when you see what’s inside.
“Lena,” you gasp, bringing your hand up to your mouth as you look down at what’s in your lap.
“What is it?” Andrew asks. You hold it up, turning it so he can get a look. In a silver frame is the messy, crayola drawing of him, you, and Lena at the arcade that she had made for him all those years ago when she was first taken by child services. Andrew turns to Lena, utterly shocked.
“That one’s the original,” Lena smiles.
“Oh, Lena,” Andrew wraps an arm around her again, taking the frame as you hand it to him, admiring it with love.
“I knew you liked her Uncle Pope,” Lena teases, elbowing Andrew in the ribs.
“You did,” he concedes with a laugh.
“And you liked him too,” She smiles at you.
“You were right about that also,” you smile, wiping away a tear.
“I’m happy this is how it turned out for you,” Lena says, looking between the two of you, “I wish we could have stayed closer but I think I understand now, why you did what you did.”
“Yeah?” Andrew says softly.
“Yeah,” Lena shifts so she’s facing Andrew, her legs resting over his shins, “you were trying to protect me, from Smurf, from all the… bad things. And you did. I know letting me go was probably a hardest decision-”
“It was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make,” Andrew sighs, more tears welling up in his eyes.
“I just, I want you to know I’m grateful that you did that for me.” Lena takes his hand and squeezes it. “I’ve been… happy. Because of what you did.”
“I’m so glad,” Andrew chokes on the words, “I’m so glad that you’re happy,”
Lena shifts back to his side, tucking herself back under his arm.
“But let’s not go this long without seeing each other again,” Lena says, wrapping her arms around his waist. Andrew lets out a sad, wet laugh.
“Nah,” Andrew rubs her shoulder, “we’ll never go this long without seeing each other ever again,”
You & Andrew
The two of you lay in bed, Andrew resting on his side, you on your back, side pulled flush against his chest, drawing little shapes on his collarbone. Andrew’s warm hand is splayed against your ribcage, holding you right where you belong.
“Did you have a good birthday?” You whisper. Andrew lets out a laugh like a breath, as if to say that was a ridiculous question.
“This was the most special thing anyone has ever done for me,” He says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, “I don’t- I don’t even know how to begin to thank you,”
“Seeing you happy is all the thanks I need,” you say quietly, cupping his cheek, stroking his sun-kissed skin with your thumb.
“How the hell did I ever get you?” Andrew smiles at you with reverence.
“Well, you had one hell of a wing woman,” you say, thinking about Lena who is asleep just down the hall. “And you’re a good man, Andrew Cody. The best I know.”
Andrew cups your jaw in his palm, leaning down to you, pressing a tender kiss on your lips. You slide your hand into his hair, twisting the coils around your fingers, sighing into his mouth. You move against each other with love and intention, tongues slipping into each other’s mouths as Andrew pulls your chest against his. He moans into your mouth as you pull on his hair, slipping the strap of your pajama top off your shoulder when you both hear the bedroom door open.
“Mommy,” Gwen’s little voice cuts through the darkness, “I can’t sleep,”
“Oh, come here my love,” you say as Andrew places one more fleeting kiss on your neck before reaching down and pulling Gwen up on the bed. Andrew tucks you into his chest while you pull the covers over Gwen, twirling her little curls in your fingers, the same thing that helps her father fall asleep.
“I love you,” Andrew whispers against your neck. You turn, placing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth.
“I love you,” you breathe on to his lips.
By the time you wake up all three are in your bed, you and Andrew holding them in between your bodies like bookends. And as he looks over his sleeping girls, Blythe pressed against your side, Gwen on her stomach clutching her little pink piggy, Rosalie tucked into Andrew’s side, fist curled in his shirt even in her sleep. And you, just as beautiful as the day he met you, maybe even more so now, dark lashes resting against your cheeks as you sleep, hair splayed out on the pillow. His heart feels so full, his girls in his bed, his brothers, his Lena, just down the hall.
contains: descriptions of birth, fluff, tiny touch of angst, lil bit of smut, daddy / husband andrew :,)
word count: 6.1k
author's note: feeling inspired by fathers day to return to our fav guy, andrew cody, and check in on his little family with you about two years after our last installment.
Andrew is elbow deep in the engine of a Chevy when Matt, one of the other guys from the shop, taps the hood of the car to get his attention.
“Hey man,” he says, “you left your phone in the office, shit won’t stop ringing,”
Andrew jolts upright, hitting his head on the hood of the car, feeling slightly panicked.
“Shit,” he mutters, grabbing the phone out of Matt’s hand, seeing ten missed calls from you and about thirty texts. Shit.
“I gotta go,” Andrew turns out of the garage and runs to his truck, calling you back immediately.
“Andrew,” you groan after picking up on the first ring, “where the fuck are you? Why didn’t you answer?”
“Where are you?” he skids onto the road, “are you at the hospital?”
“Yes, no, I’m almost there,” you stifle a cry as another contraction washes over you.
“You’re driving?!” Andrew exclaims into the phone.
“Do not yell at me right now!” You huff, “You didn’t pick up!”
“I’m- no- I’m not yelling my love,” Andrew runs his hand over his face, “where’s Gwen? Is she with you?”
“Fuck no,” you say, “she’s at the neighbors, she’s with Virginia and Ernest,”
“Good ok, good,” Andrew says, trying to stay calm. “How close are you?”
“I’m pulling into the hospital now,” your breath sounding labored, “fuck, I need you to be here,” you whine.
“I’m almost there,” Andrew says, pushing the gas a little harder, “ten minutes,”
“Ok,” you groan, “I’m gonna go find a doctor or fucking someone to give me a fucking epidural,”
“I’ll be right there, ok? I love you, I love you so much,” Andrew chews on the inside of his cheek.
“Ok, I love you,” you sigh, trying to regulate your breathing, "get here!"
Fuck. He can’t believe he left his phone in the office this close to your due date. He can’t believe you had to drive yourself to the hospital. He’s trying to stay calm but he’s feeling a slow boiling rage building inside. He’s so angry with himself that this is how it’s starting. The two of you had been so overly anxious with Gwen and you had repeated over and over how you didn’t want to stress so much this time around, but now he wishes he had. He wishes he kept the same eagle-eyed watch on you so that this dumb mistake would have never happened. He skids into the parking lot, running through the emergency department, not sure if you're there or in obstetrics, pushing past the line of people up to the front desk.
“My wife,” he huffs, giving the startled nurse your name, “she’s in labor,”
“Oh, yes,” the nurse says, typing your name into the computer, “she just came in, she’s on the third floor with OB, you can take-”
Andrew peels away from the counter knowing exactly where to go. He had been at every appointment with you, every blood test, every ultrasound, he can remember sitting in the small room where you got the first sonogram for your second pregnancy, clutching onto each other's hands in anticipation.
You had felt a little different than your last pregnancy and were therefore certain it was a boy. Andrew agreed with your prediction because he essentially agreed with everything you said, it had never steered him wrong... but he couldn’t help but wish for another girl.
“Alright,” the ultrasound technician said, turning the screen to you, “there is your baby, we got our little hands, little feet, heart beat sounds great… Do you want to know the gender?”
“Yes,” you squeezed Andrew’s hand, both of your eyes locked on the screen.
“It’s a girl,” she smiled at you. Your head whipped to Andrew and he’d bent forward, took your face in his hands, and placed a sweet kiss on your lips.
“A girl,” you whispered to him, as tears form in both your eyes and his, “another girl,”
“I love you,” he said, kissing your cheeks, “I love her,”
The tech started moving the wand across your belly again, which made Andrew sit straight up.
“Is something wrong?” He asked, hand clamped down on yours.
“No,” the tech said, but she was squinting at the screen, “I hope you like surprises,”
“What?” you leaned forward slightly, trying to see what she saw.
“Here are… the other ones little hands, and feet,” she pointed on the screen.
“Twins?” you gasped, turning, looking at Andrew. His mouth hung open. He was entirely shocked. Your heart started to ache. He was a twin, emphasis on ‘was’…
“Andrew,” you said softly, reaching up to him, cupping his cheek in your hand. “Are you ok?”
Slowly he turned to you. He was fully crying.
“Twins,” he whispered, bringing your hand to his, kissing each knuckle.
“Is it- what is it?” you turned back to the tech.
“Another girl,” she smiled.
“Oh my god,” you smiled, turning to him. He’d just been staring at you with pure adoration.
“I’ll give you two a minute,” the tech said, standing and leaving the room.
“You’re fully a girl dad now,” you giggled as he stood bending forward and kissing you again.
“Is that ok?” you mumbled against his lips.
“Are you kidding?” he said, resting his forehead against yours, “it’s perfect,” he kissed you again, “you’re perfect,” kiss, “Gwen’s perfect,” kiss, “the girls will be perfect,” kiss, “I love you so fucking much,” kiss. You giggled against his lips.
“I love you so fucking much,” you sighed.
Andrew hears you before he sees you.
“No,” you says, sounding pissed, “I need my husband, I can’t- I can’t do it without him-”
Andrew pushes into the hospital room the nurse had directed him to and finds you sitting on the bed in a hospital gown. The anesthesiologist is looking down at you sympathetically as you stare at her defiantly with tears in your eyes, you both turn as he enters the room.
“I hope you’re the husband,” the doctor looks at Andrew pleadingly.
“Yeah,” he says, rounding the bed, wrapping his arms around you as you reach out to him with tears in your eyes.
“Andrew,” you cry.
“Hey, hey, you’re ok,” he kisses you temple, taking your face in his hands, “I’m here, it’s ok.”
“Ok,” you whimper, holding onto him like your life depends on it.
“We have to let the doctor put in the epidural and you’ll feel much better, ok?” he says, voice gentle, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. You nod at him as he swipes a tear from under your eye.
“Ok,” the anesthesiologist says, “you’re going to sit facing your husband, you can hold onto him if you’d like, but I need you to stay very still alright?”
“Mhm,” you say. Andrew helps you shift facing away from her, your legs dangling over the edge of the bed, you curve over, resting your head on Andrew’s chest, locking your hands in his.
“Alright let’s get started,” she says, “first we’re gonna do a numbing shot, it’ll feel like a pin-prick then some burning,”
“Ok,” you say in a small voice. Andrew squeezes on your hands, whispering sweet nothings to you: how much he loves you, how resilliant you are, how you're the best mom in the world. He knows the epidural is the part you were the most scared for with Gwen, even though you know it will make you feel better the whole needle-in-the-spine thing really freaks you out.
“Alright,” the doctor says, lightly tapping on your back, “we’re gonna place the epidural needle now-”
“Wait, wait,” you yell, pushing yourself away from her and against Andrew, gripping onto his shirt, burying your face in his chest, “I can’t do this- I can’t do two babies it’s- I don’t know how-” you cry against him. He says your name, softly, tenderly, crouching before you, taking your face in his hands.
“You can do this,” he gazes into your bloodshot eyes, “I know you can do it, you’re the strongest person I know.” He gives you a knowing look. “What are you?” You let out a sad, wet laugh, immediately knowing what he’s alluding to, thinking back to all those years ago when you were all cut up after you fell off your bike picking up Lena from school, to the night after that horrible job that went wrong when you had pulled glass shards from his stomach.
“I’m a tough cookie,” you mumble.
“The toughest,” he says, placing a soft kiss on your lips. “You can do this.”
“Ok,” you whisper. He stands up again, taking your hands in his and you bend forward, resting against his chest.
“Here we go,” says the doctor, slowly pushing the needle in, you squeeze on Andrew’s hands staying entirely still. You feel an intense pressure in your lower back, followed by a brief tingling sensation, a zing shooting down one of your legs. The insertion lasts a total of ten minutes and it takes another ten for the full numbing effect to kick in.
Andrew helps you shift back on the bed, kissing your forehead, whispering that you did such a good job, and telling you how much he loves you. While you wait for active labor to start you suck on ice chips while Andrew tells you stories to try and distract you. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, brushing your hair back, telling cute anecdotes about Gwen when a wave of nausea passes over you.
“Are you ok?” Andrew shifts, taking your face in his hands, “you just got white as a sheet,”
“I think we need the doctor,” you mumble, stomach aching in rolling waves.
“Ok,” he says, pushing the call button over and over. A nurse pops her head in the room.
“Hi Mom and Dad,” she smiles, “how are we doing?”
“You need to get Dr. Ganesh,” you groan.
“Alrighty, let me just take a quick peak,” she says, snapping on a pair of gloves, gently pushing your knees apart, she barely opens your legs a few inches before standing, “yup!” she agrees, sticking her head out into the hallway.
“We need Dr. Ganesh in 402,” she calls into the hallway before picking up the phone for the intercom, “Dr. Ganesh to room 402, Dr. Ganesh to room 402,”
“Alright, let’s get you a little more comfortable while she gets here,” the nurse says, helping you set your legs in the stirrups. “Twins today, huh? How exciting,”
“Easy for you to say it’s not your vagina,” you groan, feeling the pressure build in your back, “sorry, I’m sorry,”
“You’re fine,” the nurse says as Dr. Ganesh walks into the room, greeting you warmly.
“Are we ready to do this thing?” Dr. Ganesh says, positioning herself between your legs.
“I fuckin’ guess,” you sigh, grabbing onto Andrews hands.
“Alright, everything looks great,” she says, calm and supportive, “let’s start with one big push,”
“You got this,” Andrew says, bending down to your level, giving a firm nod. You nod back and then bare down and push with all your might, the pressure building in your pelvis.
“Good, good,” Dr. Ganesh says. You continue like for about thirty minutes before she speaks again, “alright, head is in view, let’s have one more big push,”
You clamp down on Andrew’s hand, groaning, digging your nails into his skin, pushing as hard as you can.
“And baby girl A is out!” Dr. Ganesh says, but aside from the beeping of the machines and your heavy breathing the room is quiet.
“She’s not crying,” you say, looking at Andrew entirely panicked, before turning back to Dr. Ganesh, “why isn’t she crying?”
“It’s ok,” Dr. Ganesh says, clamping the umbilical cord, “she just needs a little assist, it's her first time being born,"
You try to smile at the light-hearted joke, knowing that if it was serious Dr. Ganesh wouldn't make light of the situation. The nurses in the room move the tiny baby to a little warming table, suctioning out a little fluid from her mouth before a loud cry breaks through the room.
“Oh my god,” you say, tears falling down your cheeks.
“There we go,” one of the nurses says, carrying the crying baby over to you, pulling the front of your gown down slightly, placing her on your chest.
“Oh my god,” you say again tears tracing down your cheeks, “welcome to the world sweet girl,”
“She’s perfect,” Andrew whispers with tears in his eyes, resting his hand on her little back. He looks at you and loses all control he had, tears falling down his freckled cheeks, “you did so amazing,” he presses little kisses to your forehead, "I love you," he whispers against your skin.
“Alright Mama, ready for baby girl B?” Dr. Ganesh says sweetly, “Cause she is ready for you.”
“Can I keep holding her?” you sniff.
“Of course,” Dr. Ganesh smiles, “Dad, you’re in charge of keeping an eye on them,”
Andrew beams down at you, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, before resting his hand on the baby’s back once more. The delivery of the second baby is much smoother, you only push for a few minutes before she comes “shooting out like a bar of soap,” Dr. Ganesh says.
“Dad, can you help cut the cord?” she says, handing Andrew a pair of scissors.
“Yeah,” he stands, wiping away his tears, before grasping the scissors and cutting down on the cord.
“Beuatiful,” Dr. Ganesh smiles, “Dad, you ready for some skin to skin? Let’s have baby girl B and dad on the chair,” she motions for Andrew to sit before he can even respond. He follows her directions immediately pulling his shirt off as the nurse hands the second tiny, crying baby girl to him. She’s so tiny Andrew can hardly believe it, she’s much smaller than Gwen was but not quieter, not by one bit. He could practically hold her with one hand but he cradles her tiny body to his chest with the utmost care. His eyes flick up to you and you’re watching him with reverence, mouthing I love you to him which he repeats back to you.
After about fifty minutes your birthing team has cleaned you up and left you, Andrew, and the girls alone. He places the second baby girl on your chest, squeezing in the hospital bed beside you, not letting you move an inch despite you telling him you can. He wraps his arm around you, tucking you into his side, kissing your forehead over and over.
“You did so good,” he murmurs, “you’re so amazing,”
“I love you,” you sigh, a small tear rolling down your cheek. Andrew kisses it away before placing a sweet kiss on your lips.
“I love you so much,” he whispers against your mouth.
“I’m so tired,” you sigh, running your hand over the soft blanket on top of your girls.
“You wanna put them down? Try to sleep a little?” Andrew says softly.
“No,” you murmur, looking down at them, “I don’t want to miss anything,”
Andrew breathes out a laugh, resting his big hand across the tiny girls.
“I wish Gwen was here,” you say quietly.
“Let’s get her here,” he pulls back slightly to look down at you, “I can go get her, or Virginia and Ernest can bring her here, you know they would if we asked,”
“I want you to stay with me,” you say, seeming almost bashful at your request.
“Then that’s what I’ll do,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
Andrew calls Virginia who is more than happy to drive Gwen to the hospital. Virginia and Ernest never have children themselves but have been like grandparents to Gwen, and Gwen absolutely adores them. Virginia herself is dying to see the babies as well. It takes them about thirty minutes to get to the hospital and Gwen runs into the room with a small bunch of marigolds in her little fist, wearing a little green t-shirt adorned with small daisies that reads ‘Big Sister,’ under her small denim overalls.
“Mommy! Flowers!” Gwen squeaks, proudly holding them out towards you.
“She insisted that we had to bring some from the garden,” Ernest says, almost sheepish.
“So beautiful Gwenny,” you say as she tries to climb up onto the bed, Andrew scooping her up and placing her beside you.
“Babies in mommy tummy?” Gwen asks, putting her hand very carefully on your stomach. She had become very serious about using ‘gentle hands,’ as Andrew calls it, while you were pregnant.
“No, my love the babies are here,” you push a curl back from her forehead, “you wanna meet them?”
Gwen gasps and then claps her hands together.
“Yes! Sisters!” She grins. Gwen had asked almost every day since you and Andrew told her she was going to have sisters if they were ready yet. Andrew beams at the two of you before turning and picking up one of the babies from her cradle.
“Ok, gentle hands Gwenny,” Andrew says softly as he places the baby in her tiny arms, your arms wrapping around her for support, “this is your sister, Rosalie,”
Gwen’s eyes get wide at the little baby in her arms.
“She small,” Gwen looks up at you, before looking back down at Rosalie.
“She is small,” you say, tears slipping down your face.
“Ro,” Gwen says, leaning forward and placing a little kiss on her soft head.
“Is that what you’re gonna call her?” You smile.
“Mmm, yeah,” Gwen says, resting her head on Rosalie's. Gwen moves her arms, reaching towards the other bassinet as you scoop up Rosalie from her, “more baby,”
“Virginia,” you turn to your sweet neighbor, “do you want to hold her?”
“Oh,” Virginia clasps her hands together, taking slow steps towards you, she takes in a small gasp, lifting Rosalie from your arms, “she’s so beautiful,”
Andrew lifts the other baby from the cradle and Gwen reaches out of her eagerly. You wrap your arms around Gwen and take the baby from Andrew.
“This is your sister, Blythe,” Andrew says softly.
“Wow,” Gwen says, placing a gentle kiss on Blythe’s cheek. Blythe squirms and makes a tiny noise, “she say hi!” Gwen looks up at Andrew with a huge smile on her face.
“Yeah, she loves you,” Andrew says, sitting on the corner of the hospital bed.
“Love you BB,” Gwen says, resting her hand on Blythe’s little body.
“That’s a good nickname,” you smile at Gwen.
“Oh, we need to take this picture,” Ernest says, pulling out his phone, clicking through the massive sized apps. Virginia places Rosalie back in Andrew’s arms while Ernest tries to navigate to the camera app.
“Oh, Ernie give it to me,” Virginia takes the phone from his hand, swiping through the screens.
“That’s gonna be us when we’re old,” Andrew whispers to you, placing a kiss on your jaw.
“That’s us now, my love,” you smirk at him.
“Rude,” he smiles at you.
“Here we are,” Virginia says, holding the phone up, “say cheese!”
“Cheese!” Gwen beams, leaning into you.
“Oh, that’s lovely,” Virginia turns the phone for you to see. Gwen sits snugly between you and Andrew, her head resting on your chest, her little hand resting on Blythe, Andrew leaning into you with Rosalie in his arms.
“Thank you, Virginia,” you smile sweetly at her.
“We should probably leave them to have some family time,” Ernest clears his throat, gently nudging his over eager wife, “of course if you need a hand you just holler,” he smiles warmly at your little family.
“Thank you Ernest,” you say as the pair of them walk out of the hospital room.
“Babies!” Gwen claps her hands, looking back and forth between Rosalie and Blythe.
“What do you think? You ready to be a big sister?” Andrew smiles at Gwen.
“I ready Daddy,” Gwen says, placing another kiss on the crown on both Rosalie’s and Blythe's heads.
Andrew melts your heart. Even though you now have three under three he still insists on taking on the brunt work at home. He cooks, cleans, gets up in the night to give the girls bottles and if they won’t take a bottle he insists on staying up with you while you breast feed. He rubs your back before you go to sleep. He takes all three girls out of the house once a week so you can have some alone time. He showers you with love and adoration, always telling you what an amazing mom you are, how lucky the girls are to have you, how lucky he is to have you.
Andrew makes sure to do special little dates with Gwen, which she affectionately calls, “Gwen-Daddy time,” so she doesn’t feel any less loved with the new babies taking up so much time and attention. He gets you all the foods you couldn’t eat while you were pregnant: sushi, deli meats, soft cheese… anything you can think of. He buys you a set of sapphire rings, the September birthstone, as push presents for Rosalie and Blythe that sit on either side of the diamond ring he gave you when you had Gwen two April's ago. The ring for Rosalie ripples out like a wave and the ring for Blythe beams out like a sunburst, nestled around the diamond ring for Gwen on your right middle finger.
After your postpartum check up six weeks after giving birth what you want most of all is to be intimate with him again. He had done an amazing job making you feel beautiful and desirable the entire time you were pregnant and ever since you had the twins but he was reluctant to touch you, terrified that he might hurt you in any way. Even after you get cleared by the doctor he still seems a little anxious. He organizes time for the girls to go to Virginia and Ernest’s house, packing bags for each girl: Gwen’s filled with toys, books, and snacks, and the twins filled with diapers, bottles, and baby blankets. When the girls are at the neighbors the two of you get to just be together, sitting in the garden, napping on the couch, taking a bath together in your huge bathtub.
“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t feel ready,” you say, laying on your bed in your robe as he rubs lotions on your legs, massaging your tired flesh after the two of you get out of the bath.
“No- I-” Andrew sigh, squeezing his eyes shut, “I want to, so bad, but I don’t want to hurt you,”
You sit up, taking his face in your hands, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
“You could never hurt me,” you whisper, resting your forehead against his.
“Ok,” he breathes, “I’m gonna wash my hands first so there’s no lotion on- yeah-”
He stands from the bed walking quickly to the bathroom and you hear the water running. You giggle to yourself at your husband, you sweet Andrew, who is so incredibly soft towards you. He comes back out from the bathroom with a determined look on his face.
“All scrubbed in?” you crinkle your nose at him.
“Ha ha,” he says dryly, climbing onto the bed, laying next to you, “if you wanna stop you have to say, ok?”
“Ok,” you roll towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing him tenderly. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against him as you giggle into his mouth. Your lips move slowly and sweetly on each other, god he missed the way your body felt pressed into his. He’s already hard just from kissing you, slipping his tongue into your mouth as you whimper into him. He rolls you beneath him, tugging on the tie to your robe, letting the fabric fall open. He runs his hand up your side, caressing the soft skin of your breast, continuing up and cupping your face. You sigh, loving the feeling of his hands on you, his weight between your legs, his tongue in your mouth. You twist your fingers into his curls as he starts to kiss down your body, moving down the valley of your full breasts to your stomach, kissing across your stretch marks and soft belly.
“Andrew,” you murmur, noticing a fine line of white milk spilling down between your tits.
“Mmm,” he hums, before looking up at your face.
“I’m leaking,” you blush, cupping your cheek with one hand. His eyes move up to the milk trailing between your breasts. He licks a long, flat line up your sternum all the way to your neck, kissing your jaw sweetly.
“You’re gorgeous,” he breathes against your skin before asking gently, “do you want to stop?”
“No,” you whisper, fingers twisting into his curls again as he starts kissing the column of your neck. He hums against you before sitting back and shifting down between your legs. He holds your legs in his warm hands gently pushing your legs apart. He kisses your inner thighs at a slow, teasing pace, sucking on the supple skin between your legs as you sigh beneath him.
“No teasing,” you whine, slipping your fingers into his hair, pulling him towards your aching core. He smirks and spits down on your clit and you shudder at the sensation. His tongue is soft and flat against you as he licks a long line up your pussy. You whimper at the feel of his breath on you, you’re so sensitive you can already feel the hot coil winding tight in your stomach.
“Fuck,” you squeak. His hot tongue moves at a teasing pace, shaking his head from side to side making your pussy ache. His spit pools against you creating a delicious slickness between your legs as you whimper and reach blindly for his hand, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. He smiles against you as he takes your hand in his, sucking your clit into his mouth softly. He slips his tongue in and out of his mouth slurping at your clit creating a low, pulsing sensation that makes you tangle your other hand in his hair.
He relishes in the sounds you make. He shifts lower, moving your legs farther apart, gently pushing his tongue inside your hole for an aching moment. Andrew is devouring you, drinking up the sweetness at your core and melting at the sounds you're making that fill his chest with heat. Your legs start to press in around his head and he knows you’re close.
“Andrew,” you moan, as he sucks on your bundle of nerves while pushing your clit with the tip of his tongue like morse code, “I’m gonna come-”
He keeps his pace, dying to have you fall apart underneath him, you grip down on his hand, squeaking, whimpering, and moaning his name over and over as you come all over his face. He laps up everything you give him, moving his tongue with tender intention. As you slowly come down he kisses back up your body and lifts you easily on top of him as you try to catch your breath. You feel his hard length on your bare thigh and you bring your mouth to his neck, moving your hand down his chest. He moves his hand to your wrist, taking it softly in his hand.
“Hey,” he whispers into your hairline, making you tilt your head up to look at him, “making you feel good makes me feel good,”
“But what if making you feel good makes me feel good also?” You smirk at him knowingly.
“It’s so quiet,” he says, voice low and raspy, “don’t you want to close your eyes for a little before we go get the girls?”
“Mmm,” you hum in agreement, your body does feel tired and heavy and his voice is lulling you to sleep. He tucks you into his side, pulling the soft duvet over your bodies, resting his cheek on your forehead. The pair of you fall asleep for a little over two hours, Andrew waking up as the light starts to hang lower in the sky outside. He resolves to go get the girls himself to give you a little more time to rest but as soon as he tries to slip out of the bed your arm tightens around his waist.
“Where do you think you’re going?” You mumble against him, breathing in deeply, letting his smell wash over you.
“I was gonna go get the girls and let you sleep a little before dinner,” he says, kissing the top of your head.
“Mmm, no,” you huff, “I’m coming,”
You squeeze him once more before sliding out of the bed and padding over to your closet and pulling on a chocolate pinstripe maxi dress. The air outside is still warm as you drive towards Virginia and Ernest’s house with the windows of the car down, your fingers laced with Andrews as you trace his knuckles with your thumb.
Gwen squeals in excitement when the two of you walk around to the backyard of your neighbor's house, running to you and jumping into your arms.
“Mommy,” she nuzzles her little face into your neck.
“Hi my little angel,” you kiss her cheeks as you shift her onto your hip, “were you on your best behavior today?”
“Mmm, yes!” She giggles, wrapping her arms around your neck. You and Andrew profusely thank Virginia and Ernest for watching the girls for the afternoon.
“Oh, we’re always happy to have these little chickens over,” Ernest says, passing Blythe to Andrew gently. You get the three girls into their car seats and drive down the winding roads back to your house.
Dinner and bedtime are slightly nightmare-ish. Gwen is very fussy and insists she doesn’t like spaghetti any more despite requesting it for dinner every night this week. She also does not like it when you try to feed the twins, screaming when Andrew pulls her off the couch after she tries to climb into your lap. He carries a sobbing Gwen upstairs as you try and catch your breath.
After you finish feeding your very squirmy twins they are placed in their little bassinets as you finish up the dinner dishes. A very shy looking, freshly bathed Gwen walks downstairs in her froggy PJs, clinging onto Andrew’s hand.
“What do you want to say to Mommy?” Andrew looks down at her, and she looks so tiny standing next to him, reaching up to clasp his hand.
“I sorry Mommy,” Gwen says, wrapping her arms around Andrew’s leg and he laughs a little.
“You’re supposed to hug Mommy, Gwenny,” he mock-whispers to her and she looks up at him with a little “oh!” before running over to you and trying to wrap her little arms around your knees.
“Oh, my little lovebug,” you scoop her up, holding her close, “it’s hard being away from Mommy and Daddy for so long, huh?”
Gwen takes a very cute, very deep breath.
“Yeah,” she says, pressing her little palm against your gold pendant, “I love Mommy,”
“I love Gwenny,” you speckle her little cheek with kisses and she giggles, “what about Daddy, hm? Do we love him?” You turn to face Andrew, squishing your cheek against Gwen’s as he looks at you with utter reverence.
“Yeah,” Gwen squeals, “I love Daddy,”
“Yeah?” Andrew smiles, walking towards the pair of you, wrapping you both in his arms, peppering your faces with tiny kisses. He cups your jaw with his hand and presses a soft kiss to your lips making Gwen giggle.
“More!” Gwen says, making you and Andrew laugh as well.
“Yeah?" Andrew beams at Gwen, “Mommy needs a kiss from Daddy?”
“Yeah!” Gwen claps her little hands together.
“Mwah!” You make a dramatic kissing sound as Andrew kisses you again.
“Mommy, Daddy,” Gwen laughs, using her little hands to push your heads together. You giggle as you kiss Andrew again.
“I think Gwenny needs a kiss,” Andrew says, looking at you with a playful seriousness.
“Oh, definitely,” you nod and both of you kiss her soft, chubby cheeks, squishing them together as Gwen laughs in your arms.
After your little love fest Andrew scoops up Rosalie and Blythe and you all trod up the stairs together. Andrew gets the twins ready for bed in your room where their bassinets sit for the time being while you take Gwen to her room and read her a story until she falls asleep. You tuck the quilt under her chin and kiss her forehead before turning off her lamp and standing.
Andrew is in the doorframe illuminated by her little nightlight. He takes your hand in his before shutting Gwen's door softly, pulling you towards your bedroom. You slip off your dress and put on your yellow pajamas as Andrew comes up behind you, clad only in his boxers, pulling one of the sleeves off your shoulder placing kisses on your skin.
The two of you stand side by side at the bathroom sink brushing your teeth, stealing little glances at one another. You rinse and give each other minty little kisses before he pulls you to bed. The pair of you are exhausted, probably him more than you, and you must be the only woman in the world who can say that. He tucks you under his arm pulling you into him and you just stare at him, twisting his curls around your fingers.
“I’m so lucky,” you whisper.
“Yeah?” He smiles at you, eyes tired.
“Yeah,” you nod, “you’re the best dad in the world,”
“Well, you’re the best mom in the world,” he runs the tips of his nose along yours.
“No,” you huff a little, sitting up and turning to face him, resting one of your legs over his waist. You want him to take this seriously, you want him to understand exactly what he is to you, “you- the way you take care of me, the way you take care of the girls- I- you’re the kindest, sweetest, most generous, special man Andrew,” tears start to slip down your cheek as he sits up taking your face in his hand, wiping away your tears, “I love you so much, I love you in a way I’ve never loved anything or anyone ever and I-” you hiccup and devolve further into soft sobs as Andrew takes you in his arms, moving you into his lap.
“I love you more than anything,” he whispers into your hair, “I love our girls more than anything.”
He pulls back, cupping your jaw in his palm, making you look up at him.
“I was so lost before I met you- you changed me. I was so angry and confused and you- you made every horrible thing I’ve ever endured worth it because it brought me to you- and I would do it a million times over if it meant I got to have you, to have this. It all starts and ends with you.”
You’re a puddle in his lap, wrapping yourself around him as he rubs small circles on your back and kisses your hair. You tilt your head up and place a tender, wet kiss on his lips and he takes your cheek in his hand looking down at you adoringly.
“I think you’re a little tired my love,” he whispers, making you let out a little laugh.
“Maybe,” you smile at him as he runs a tissue under your eyes before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. He rolls you on top of him, flicking off the bedside lamp, slipping his hand beneath your shirt, tracing the line up your spine with loving fingers. Just as you start to slip to sleep you hear Rosalie stir in her crib. Andrew wraps his arms around you, ready to place you onto the mattress and get his little girl himself but you press him down with a gentle palm, rolling out of bed and picking her up out of her bassinet.
“My love,” he says in a gentle voice.
“Mmm?” you hum.
“That’s Blythe,” you can hear the soft smile in his voice.
“What?” You pull back to look at the sleeping baby in your arms and it is definitely Blythe, “oh,” you loll your head back taking a deep breath in as Rosalie continues to squirm in her crib. Andrew is already on his feet as you're placing Blythe down again. You climb back into bed, holding your hands out for Rosalie. Andrew places her gently in your arms, crawling back into bed next to you, wrapping his arm around you both, placing a pillow in your lap for Rosalie to rest on. The moonlight fills your room as you slip your sleeve off your shoulder, letting Rosalie latch. Andrew slips his finger into her tiny little fist and she grips down on him.
“Daddy’s girl,” you murmur, resting your head on his shoulder as he draws little circles on your arms, “she looks like you,” Andrew breathes out a laugh, kissing your temple.
“Gwen looks like me, the twins look like you,” he says softly.
“Mm,” you hum, “but the face she’s making,” you turn to him and purse your lips, furrowing your eyebrows, “that is so Andrew Cody,”
Of course, you’re right. He looks down at Rosalie’s little focused expression and smiles at his perfect daughter. The two of you stare down at her, both fighting the sleep that tugs on your eyelids. Andrew’s never needed much sleep but there is nothing in the world he would rather stay awake for than his girls.
