chasingangela: (WTF)
[personal profile] chasingangela
Marty was still pretty darned tired from the dance last night and wanted nothing more than to sleep in as long as possible.

So when he began to hear hushed whispers and sounds of movement in the room it took him a minute to realize that Angela was still in bed with him.

This being Fandom, the first thought that occurred to him was that his furniture had once again come to life. "If you don't keep it down, I swear to God I'm returning you all to Ikea," he grumbled with his eyes still shut.

At which point he heard giggles. "Dad. Come on. Stop acting like a gremlin bit you and make us breakfast," said the voice of a little boy.


Marty's eyes snap open to see two kids sitting in front of him. A boy with dark hair and a little girl with blond hair carrying a battered stuffed bear wearing a beret.

"Bounjour Daddy!" said the little girl. "Je veux une egg white omelet!"

Marty stared at the two kids with his mouth hanging open.

"Technically it's not an omelette," the older boy said poking the little girl in the shoulder.

"Shut up Frito!" the girl said punching the boy in the shoulder. "It is too!"

"Ow! Dad! Tell Marcie to call me Graham!"

"Frito! Frito! Frito! Frito! Frito!"

Angela woke up and blinked at the kids, but one word registered. Daddy? "You have kids?" she asked Marty. "Did you start when you were 12 or something?"

"Mommy's silly!" Marcie giggled. "Gimme omelet."

"Ask nicely," Graham said in a bossy tone.

Marcie stuck her tongue out at Graham and then put her best puppy dog eyes. "Gimme omelet plait."

Marty looked at Angela with a shocked expression. "Um. What's going on?"

"Daddy's silly too!" Marcie exclaimed. "Were you bit by a gremlin?"

Angela finally sat up in bed. "Like I know?" she asked Marty. "Small children are speaking French at us."

"Mommy? Si je ne peux pas avoir une omelet, est-il toast?" Marcie interjected, hurling herself into the bed and putting a silky head in Angela's lap.

Angela stroked it absently as she looked at Marty, "And they think we're mommy and daddy."

She turned to the boy. "Sweetie? Can we help you find your family?"

"Don't be goofy Mom," Graham said rolling his eyes. "I know we ate at Auntie Marcella's last night but that never hurt your memory before."

Marty looked at Angela and then back at the boy. "How did you get into this room ... son?"

"Picked the lock," Graham said with a shrug. "We saw a nice lady down in the common room and she said you two were in here. I'm allowed to talk to strangers in Fandom."

"That was kind of her," Angela said, managing to sound almost sincere. "Um ... I guess we should get dressed and find breakfast?"

"Omelet!" The little girl insisted.

"... okay, an omelet." She rubbed her forehead and looked at Marty. "Fandom thing?"

"Fandom thing," Marty agreed. "C'mon kids. Let's... um. Go wash your hands before breakfast."

"My hands are tres clean daddy, see?" Marcie shoved them in Marty's face before the boy dragged her off.

"I'll help you reach the sink, squirt."

"Merci, Frito."

After the kids were in the bathroom, Angela rolled over, scrabbling for clothes that were not her prom dress. "Would it help if I swore I wasn't pregnant?" she asked. "Because I'm really, really not."

"Hey! No splashing!" came the squeal in the bathroom.

"I don't think it matters because we're never having sex again," Marty face palmed before putting on his clothes. When they finally got the kids cleaned up, the family Chase-Blank headed out into the island of Fandom in search of plain egg white omelets (Which totally are omelets ZOMG), some industrial strength aspirin and an explanation on how these fine younglings could be their children.

[Preplayed with [ profile] oatmanspatient.]
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Angela Chase

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