#daddy darth

LAAAUUUUNCHHHH!

It was hard, Vader later admitted to himself, to look down into those huge, blue blinking eyes and maintain any semblance of anger, but boundaries had to be maintained, rules enforced, even for precocious three year olds. 

Luke, licked his lips, staring up at his father’s bland mask. “I fosed, daddy,” he looked serious, then grinned happily. “I fosed, ike you!” He waved his little hand a chair behind Vader tipped over.

Vader pursed his lips, fighting a smile, fighting against the pride he felt growing; his son was strong in the Force. 

Luke seemed to pick up on his father’s feelings, he bounced on his feet and happily clapped his hands. “I fosed, like daddy!”  

Now the table behind Vader jumped up and down, dishes rattling. He sighed and bent down, picking his son up and then turned to show Luke what he had done. The breakfast table was a mess with spilled milk, broken crockery and poor Threepio stood stiff and still with cereal sticking to his face and milk dripping into his wiring. The droid had quickly summoned his master and quickly shut down to preserve his inner workings from liquid and gloppy cereal. 

“We do not use the Force at breakfast, Luke,” Vader intoned sternly. 

“Ay?”

“Because the food goes in our stomach and not over droids.”

“Ay?”

“Because Threepio is going to need cleaned and his circuits checked.”

“Ay?”

“To ensure that he is not damaged.”

“Ay?”

Another sigh from the vocoder, and Vader inclined his head to look at his son in his arms; Luke’s middle finger was lodged firmly in his nose. 

It was going to be a long day.

ooOOoo