capeandcowllogs | (no subject)

WHO: Jenny Quantum (

century_girl) and the Midnighter (

wardelivery)
WHERE: Near the Porter's island.
WHEN: Now.
WARNINGS: None.
SUMMARY: Midnighter is a dad.
FORMAT: Prose.

She already didn't like this at all. She couldn't feel anything around her and it was all wrong. It was hard to explain, because it was not something concrete like the Door not appearing when it should have. Jenny was... a part of the world, she had always been, and it felt like she wasn't, anymore.

At least, Daddy Midnight was there, and had answered fast, so she wasn't alone. If everyone was also here, it couldn't be bad. They'd find a way to make things okay again. That's what they always did, and Angie had told her stories about worse situations they had been in, when she was smaller. She could remember part of that time with Seth even if she'd been young. They were all used to this.

Jenny was going to wait for her dad and not move (or move just a little and fly to the other side of the water), and they would find out what to do; they always did.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"They were very flattering glasses. He should have listened to me about the wig, though," he said, a little cheerfulness under his scowl.

The scowl remained, however, as he strode back towards the City. "You have to look at least moderately normal. If I can find someone I trust, though, they can pretend to tutor you at home."

She didn't want to look normal, but Daddy usually knew best and she would think about it a little and try to understand why he wanted this before arguing more. For now, she was overall glad that one of her dads was here.

Jenny nodded and then stuck her tongue out, teasing. "I didn't like the glasses. And you could have helped him dye his hair instead!" Because Midnighter was so good with hair dye.

"He'd look silly in the spanking white costume if he had auburn hair, sweety." Midnighter was already getting falling into the routine of dealing with young-Jenny, as if the intervening years hadn't happened; being 'adaptable' had its blessings. And curses. The reality of this was probably going to trip him up soon.

"Can you hang on my back, Jenny?" He pointed at a fire escape. "We're going to go up this wall and get to my apartment from the roofs."

"But I think he'd look good with black hair," Jenny answered quickly, smiling.

She then made a face and rolled her eyes quickly. She pushed slightly on Midnighter's hand, as if to make him understand he could let her go, now. "I can fly, daddy. And if it's your apartment, couldn't you just use the front door?

Won't people see you and know that you live here? I told you you weren't very good at the secret identity thing."

"He looks very good with black hair, but I'd rather he not wear it." Midnighter paused.

"Despite what you think, honey, daddy is still very slightly smarter than a concussed goldfish. I know you can fly. But I haven't been in a fight with anything more menacing than a vending machine in a month, and I'm going to get a beer gut." He did loosen his grip so that she could make her own way up.

"And skulking costumed people on roofs attract less attention than skulking costumed people walking up the inside stairs past Mrs. Carmichael and her pekinese."

Jenny laughed. "I didn't know you could get a beer gut." She started flying beside Midnighter, smiling and generally gladder that he was there with every passing second.

Sure, she was going to start thinking about Apollo missing at some point, but right now, she was happy to spend time with her other dad. She'd spent the last few days wondering if he was going to come back and thinking about it a lot, after all.

"You could also stop drinking so much beer," she added, sticking her tongue out and teasing.

"Or I could climb this building." Like a parkour-trained Clydesdale: all muscle and brute-force against gravity. He bounded from fire escape rail to ledge to pipe, every landing just lasting long enough for him to wrench his entire weight up to the next handhold with his legs or feet, or both. He landed on the roof with only a very muted thud, absorbing the energy back into himself and rolling with it so that there wasn't a sharp sound to announce his arrival.

"Sixth floor, east side." He tipped his head toward an adjacent wall. "Let me make sure nobody's watching and we'll head in. Window's unlocked. I miss Doors, Jenny," he added with a mostly-suppressed sigh.

Jenny didn't suppress her sigh at all when she answered. "It's weird not to have the Doors. It's --" she looked down, unsure and uncomfortable. "Everything is weird, here."

She had said that already not that long ago, but things hadn't changed. She couldn't even explain it, it was a feeling of some sort. She didn't feel like she belonged and the world didn't feel like it was right. And, of course, that would be because it wasn't.

She nodded slowly and looked at her dad again. "Tell me when I can go."

The Midnighter waved her into the slight cover of the roof ledge while someone peered out curiously. Someone else was watching a pigeon nearby. At four o'clock, someone staring out their window idly as they cooked. A second before each of the observers glanced away at the same time, he said "Now, sweety," and in the next breath he was dropping like a stone to the window and vaulting inside.

...he really, REALLY missed Doors, and a husband who could fly.