#wednesday100

Accounting for Taste II

“Why did you have a honey pot upstairs to start with?”

“You’re lucky you used that phrase with me and not your father.”

“Oh, shit, I forgot what that means here. Forget I asked.”

Claire grins, then a light laugh escapes. It can’t possibly be a giggle. No one over fifty giggles. Brianna joins her.

“Your father’s too Scottish for breakfast in bed, except when there’s fresh honey. It’s his Achilles heel.”

“I suppose every hero has one.”

She looks so young, and entirely familiar to him: beautiful, bold in her movements, a bit frustrated. For a moment, it takes Jamie's knees.

Still, he considers leaving her peaceful, stepping away so she will never suffer the losses that she did — of their children, of whole worlds, of him. But she had said, beside him in their bed, writing in her wee book, that even knowing the pain, she would still make the same choice, unregretted.

The way he loves her, he would too.

And so he goes to the stones, summons vase-blue.

He wakes her every morning, as sweetly as he did the morning they left the ridge, so she begins each day with tender gratitude, seeing his eyes alight with love for her.

It’s perfect, and days pass and he never wavers in this, and she finally asks why.

Only then a shadow crosses his face, which has lately reflected only a deep-seated peace.

"I think Alfred killed JFK." That was how Tim started a conversation with his younger brothers as Damian shut the car door.

"Um.. what?" Duke asked, having just settled into his seat.

"You heard me. I've been doing research, I'm fairly certain Alfred was in the area."

"He would've been, like, twelve, Timothy. And British." Damian was muttering from behind.

"Do we know that? We think he's seventy-something, but we don't know!"

"Tim, I love ya, but what?!"

"Just- the spy to butler pipeline doesn't seem all that common! What if he's still a spy?!"

Written for the ongoing  @100wednesday any ship, any fandom, old-school drabble writing challenge! You can find the details here.

(I've also added this to my collection of Steggy drabbles on ao3, where it is lucky chapter 13!)

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Peggy waved off Mr. Jarvis’s attempt to help her into the passenger seat of Howard’s car.

She’d grudgingly agreed to be chauffeured during these last few weeks, mostly to appease Steve, after everyone had gone on about her having nearly had the last baby on the way to the hospital. But she wasn’t an invalid.

“Where to next, Director?” Jarvis asked cheerfully.

She took in a sudden, surprised breath. “Oh! I’m - ah - well, perhaps to the hospital, Mr. Jarvis. I’m terribly afraid your upholstery - ” 

Jarvis leaned forward excitedly. “Your waters have broken?”

"Ah." He blinks. "Mrs. Hall. That is, I—"

She almost tells him to call her Audrey, Aud if he dares. (She hopes he dares.)

"—understand if—"

@100wednesday Adjacent

There's a word Henry uses: adjacent. David doesn't know what it means. 

So he starts keeping track of when his favorite human uses it: 

When he's sitting next to Menace on the couch with David, watching Star Wars (again) 

When he and Silly Hair are next to each other at the kitchen table, going over plans for the shelter.

When Rock Girl is here and she and Cinnamon Girl are sitting on the couch together, singing a song. 

And most importantly, when David's cuddling with him first thing in the morning. 

“Happy birthday m’annsachd.” Jamie handed Bree a small but weighty pouch, smiling at the blessing he never thought he’d get to meet.

Inside, she found a rabbit carved out of wood. She ran her fingers over every groove of its detailed face. “It’s beautiful, Da.”