33 Apocalypse Ave - Thursday Afternoon

[no_toast_thanks]

Friday was home with a cold so Thursday was home as well, keeping an eye on him. He had finally fallen asleep and she was happy to take a few minutes to have lunch and write a letter

Comments

[no_toast_thanks]

"I do, actually," Thursday replied. "Who are you?" She had an inkling, but that inkling was upstairs asleep and 12 years younger.

[no_toast_thanks]

"You know who I am," he said patiently. "Friday. Well, not your Friday yet, but give it time."

[no_toast_thanks]

"About twelve years?"

[no_toast_thanks]

"Twelve years, three months, twelve days, six hours and fourteen minutes. I could go into seconds and milliseconds if you'd like."

[no_toast_thanks]

Friday frowned. "I'm trying to help you. Something's wrong with the Standard History Eventline. There's more going on in twelve years' time, but I can't tell you about that. What matters is that I'm here, something isn't right and Dad's whereabouts is an important part of solving that."

[no_toast_thanks]

"Sweetpea, I don't doubt that you're here to help." She did, slightly, but that wasn't important. "But for you to grow up knowing your father, his location has to remain a secret. His life depends on it. Now, what isn't right? If you tell me, maybe I can help."

[no_toast_thanks]

"You don't understand, Mum, and don't call me Sweetpea. I'm sixteen, I joined the Time Scouts when I was thirteen and I'm a professional. I'm far too old to be called Sweetpea anymore."

[no_toast_thanks]

Thursday wasn't entirely sure she liked this side of Friday. He was a bit of a snot. Nevertheless, he was apparently her son. "You'll always be my Sweetpea. You're right, though. I don't understand. Why is it so important that your father is here?"