AU: I will write an AU drabble with my character and yours.
((Based on the AU with Aimee-ma and Lampy-son))
Lampwick closed one eye, his tongue poking out between his overlarge front teeth as he concentrated. He'd found some pretty swell pebbles for his slingshot and he'd been aching for a good target to test them on. He was certain that if he aimed just right, that powdery wig would come clean off. Lampwick was crouched just behind the corner of an alleyway, well out of sight; Norrington would never know what hit 'em! Lampwick snickered as he pulled the sling back a little more; any second he could let go and--
"I wouldn't do zat eef I were you, chere."
Lampwick froze; his eyes flicked to the blonde woman looming over his shoulder, a faint frown etched into her fair features. He quickly dropped his hands, but he knew it was too late to hide the slingshot.
"Ma! I- uh, was just, ehm... yer all done shoppin, huh? Boy, that was quick!" She was clutching a bag of groceries to her hip. "Need help carryin' them or somethin'?" Lampwick added, grinning sheepishly.
"Non. I'm not an eembecile, Lampweeck - I saw what you were doeenk--"
'Aw, boy, here it comes,' Lampwick thought, dropping his eyes to the ground, bracing himself for a scolding.
"--and while I don't approve, I haff to say, for a boy who spends so much time with heez sleengshot, your technique needs work."
Lampwick looked up quickly as the slingshot was yanked from his grasp. Aimee had set the groceries on the ground and now crouched beside him; with an air of nonchalance, she snatched a pebble from the ground and fitted it into the sling.
"For one theeng, chere, we do not close both eyes when we aim - if we want a good shot, both eyes must be open, oui?"
Lampwick nodded, still mute with surprise, but a slow smile spreading across his face.
Aimee explained a few more of the finer points of marksmanship, Lampwick listening more closely than he'd ever listened to anyone, all the while his mind was still reeling over the fact that Aimee - his Ma - was practically an expert on a topic that interested him so.
Lampwick was right about one thing; Norrington's wig came sailing off as beautifully as a kite on the wind. And he'd never seen it coming. Lampwick and Aimee covered their giggles and pressed their backs against the alley wall, unseen.
Norrington was still complaining about the wind when they waltzed up to him a minute later, mother and son sharing secret cheshire cat smiles.
Wine: For the drunken phone-call/text
[12:30] ma pinoke n i rboke into norris privte winestorez
[12:31] its rly funy ma his nsoe is liek 10ft llong lol
[12:33] btwdo uthink uculd distrat norri forabit???
[12:33] i dont tthikn he cna fit thru teh dooor ha