A log
Who: Tonks and Little Tom
What: Tonks and Tom talk
Where: Tonks' flat
When: Yesterday afternoon
Why: Why not? Tonks and Tom talk about his Mum and stuff.
There was a loud pop in the hallway infront of Tonks' flat before the sound of keys rattling and then dropping. This was followed by a curse before the door opened. "Oi! I'm home!" Tonks calls and closes the door behind her. "Anyone around?"
Tom doesn't answer, because the orphanage trained him never to yell across a room or building. He is sitting in a chair in the living room, however, with a book open on his lap. He appears to have been drawing on himself in blue pen, though. There are snakes and flowers on the backs of his hands.
"Wotcher Tom," Tonks calls cheerfully. "I have some news about your Mum."
He looks up, chewing his lip. "Is she better yet?"
That look nearly breaks her heart, "She's a bit better. She awoke from her coma."
He smiles a little. "I like being here, too, but I miss her. A lot. She's going to be okay, right?" He's been asking this often.
"She'll be fine," Tonks moves closer and kneels infront of the chair that he is sitting in. "Your Mum was hurt pretty badly though, she still needs a lot of rest."
"Who would do something like that to her? She's so nice to everyone." He looks at the floor, still chewing his lip.
"Hey..." Tonks reaches over and gently lifts Tom's chin up. "Sometimes bad things happen to good people. There's not a good reason for it, sometimes people are just evil." Tonks smiles at Tom. She hates having to keep the full truth from him but she doesn't believe that he would understand it.
There isn't much expression on his face. Whatever he's feeling is well locked-away, beneath the surface. "I don't like it."
"I don't either Tom, I really don't." She looks at him a moment before asking him a very hard question, at least hard for her. "Does your Mum ever bring her boyfriends around you?" Her tone is very gentle.
He shakes his head. "Only Thorn and Matthew, and they're not boyfriend-boyfriends. I know she has lots of friends, because sometimes I see them talk to her on her journal, but I haven't met most of them, even the girls."
"Okay," Tonks smiles and then peeks at his doddled on hands. "You know Tom it's going to be pretty hard to tape your hands to the 'fridge."
He gives a small smile. "I wanted to draw them in colors, but I only have one pen."
"That would have made your hands look extra festive while on my fridge. It's going to be a challenge getting them up there but I think I can manage." Tonks wiggles her eyebrows at Tom, clearly challenging him.
"I could use fingerpaints and make handprints instead." His eyes sparkle impishly.
"Why have handprints when I can have real hands?"
"Are you gonna cut my hands off?" He blinks at her in mock-worry. He's joking, really.
"No Tom, I won't cut them off. Don't be silly. I'm going to magically sever them right above your wrists. You don't need your hands that much do you?"
Whimper! "I can't pick things up with my toes!"
"Your toes? Now that's a thought... Hands are so last season." Tonks picks up his leg and takes off his shoe. "Let's examine them."
Squeeeall! "Nooo! I'm not ticklish!" Flail, kick!
"You're not? So this doesn't tickle at all?" She tickles the arch of his foot and then pretends to take a big sniff of his foot. "Oh Merlin, Tom when was the last time you washed?"
Through hysterical giggling, he answers, "This morning! I don't stink! I used soap!"
"You do too! Smell your stinky foot!"
"Your feet stink, too!" There is no rational basis for this opinion, but he feels compelled to counterattack.
"Ahh... They do not!" Tonks is mock outraged. "They smell fine! I'll prove it to you." She flings off her shoe and lefts her foot to his nose.
It is now time to see if she is ticklish. TICKLE TICKLE!
"AHHH!" Tonks is ticklish and it doesn't take much time at all for her to loose her balance and promptly fall over, landing on her bum. "Oomph!"
Yes! Tom wins! To make his victory complete, he tackles her. "We'll put your hands on the fridge instead!"
What: Tonks and Tom talk
Where: Tonks' flat
When: Yesterday afternoon
Why: Why not? Tonks and Tom talk about his Mum and stuff.
There was a loud pop in the hallway infront of Tonks' flat before the sound of keys rattling and then dropping. This was followed by a curse before the door opened. "Oi! I'm home!" Tonks calls and closes the door behind her. "Anyone around?"
Tom doesn't answer, because the orphanage trained him never to yell across a room or building. He is sitting in a chair in the living room, however, with a book open on his lap. He appears to have been drawing on himself in blue pen, though. There are snakes and flowers on the backs of his hands.
"Wotcher Tom," Tonks calls cheerfully. "I have some news about your Mum."
He looks up, chewing his lip. "Is she better yet?"
That look nearly breaks her heart, "She's a bit better. She awoke from her coma."
He smiles a little. "I like being here, too, but I miss her. A lot. She's going to be okay, right?" He's been asking this often.
"She'll be fine," Tonks moves closer and kneels infront of the chair that he is sitting in. "Your Mum was hurt pretty badly though, she still needs a lot of rest."
"Who would do something like that to her? She's so nice to everyone." He looks at the floor, still chewing his lip.
"Hey..." Tonks reaches over and gently lifts Tom's chin up. "Sometimes bad things happen to good people. There's not a good reason for it, sometimes people are just evil." Tonks smiles at Tom. She hates having to keep the full truth from him but she doesn't believe that he would understand it.
There isn't much expression on his face. Whatever he's feeling is well locked-away, beneath the surface. "I don't like it."
"I don't either Tom, I really don't." She looks at him a moment before asking him a very hard question, at least hard for her. "Does your Mum ever bring her boyfriends around you?" Her tone is very gentle.
He shakes his head. "Only Thorn and Matthew, and they're not boyfriend-boyfriends. I know she has lots of friends, because sometimes I see them talk to her on her journal, but I haven't met most of them, even the girls."
"Okay," Tonks smiles and then peeks at his doddled on hands. "You know Tom it's going to be pretty hard to tape your hands to the 'fridge."
He gives a small smile. "I wanted to draw them in colors, but I only have one pen."
"That would have made your hands look extra festive while on my fridge. It's going to be a challenge getting them up there but I think I can manage." Tonks wiggles her eyebrows at Tom, clearly challenging him.
"I could use fingerpaints and make handprints instead." His eyes sparkle impishly.
"Why have handprints when I can have real hands?"
"Are you gonna cut my hands off?" He blinks at her in mock-worry. He's joking, really.
"No Tom, I won't cut them off. Don't be silly. I'm going to magically sever them right above your wrists. You don't need your hands that much do you?"
Whimper! "I can't pick things up with my toes!"
"Your toes? Now that's a thought... Hands are so last season." Tonks picks up his leg and takes off his shoe. "Let's examine them."
Squeeeall! "Nooo! I'm not ticklish!" Flail, kick!
"You're not? So this doesn't tickle at all?" She tickles the arch of his foot and then pretends to take a big sniff of his foot. "Oh Merlin, Tom when was the last time you washed?"
Through hysterical giggling, he answers, "This morning! I don't stink! I used soap!"
"You do too! Smell your stinky foot!"
"Your feet stink, too!" There is no rational basis for this opinion, but he feels compelled to counterattack.
"Ahh... They do not!" Tonks is mock outraged. "They smell fine! I'll prove it to you." She flings off her shoe and lefts her foot to his nose.
It is now time to see if she is ticklish. TICKLE TICKLE!
"AHHH!" Tonks is ticklish and it doesn't take much time at all for her to loose her balance and promptly fall over, landing on her bum. "Oomph!"
Yes! Tom wins! To make his victory complete, he tackles her. "We'll put your hands on the fridge instead!"