April First, Part 3
Title: April First, Part 3
Author: Jelsemium
Characters: Charlie, Alan
Word Count: 946
Dedication: To the Ones I Love. (That would be you.)
Rating: K
Alan checked his watch as he fastened it on. He noted the time... and the date.
He headed downstairs, determined to stay on his guard. Donnie wasn't likely to come by this early just to play a prank. He was too busy and generally too solemn these days.
Charlie had more opportunity, but he was absent-minded enough to forget about April Fool's Day. Amita was more of an unknown, but Alan doubted that she would play a prank on him. She was too well brought up, or so he hoped.
Larry, on the other hand, was liable to try anything. (Purely in the name of scientific inquiry, of course.)
The blessed perfume of coffee wafted through the house, letting him know that somebody was up. He walked into the kitchen and found his younger son munching on a biscuit and watching the afore-mentioned ambrosia percolate through the fancy coffee maker. (In his day, they were just coffee pots, Alan huffed to himself.)
"Morning, Charlie," Alan said. "You're up early?" Since he might be in Jeopardy, he phrased it in the form of a question.
"Hm? Yeah, I have an early class," Charlie muttered. He scratched his clean shaven chin. "Good morning, Dad," he added belatedly.
"Hm," Alan looked Charlie over critically. In his opinion, the younger man was dressed more for painting houses than teaching math... a faded orange t-shirt with musical notation imprinted in white, an overshirt the color of a well-used basketball, ratty jeans and sneakers that had probably been white when they'd been in the store.
He almost said something, then he remembered the date. His imagination ran through the scenario.
Him: Is that what you're wearing to work?
Charlie: Um, yeah, why?
Him: In my day, a professional work work clothes to work.
Charlie: April Fool!
He decided to keep his mouth shut on the topic.
***
"Where is everybody?" Alan asked he cocked his head to catch any sounds indicating the presence of other people. The kitchen wasn't large enough to conceal anybody, but he looked around anyway.
Charlie scratched his chin again as he mulled that over. "Well, Don's probably at work. Megan and Terry are still back east... New York and DC respectively. Nikki is headed to hostage negotiation class. I would assume that David, Colby, Liz and..."
Charlie ducked Alan's half-hearted swat. "I meant, I wanted to know the where-abouts of the people currently over-nighting in this residence," he growled.
Charlie gave him an impish grin that had been cute twenty-six years ago.
"That means Amita and Larry, as I can see where you are and I don't need a GPS thingie to tell me where I am," Alan added hastily.
"Ah, okay," Charlie said. "Amita went to her place to fix her hair. Apparently we don't have enough room in our tiny bathroom to accomodate all of her haberdashery equipment."
The coffee maker was making blurping noises to indicate that it was nearing the end of its cycle.
"I have no idea where Larry is," Charlie continued. "I have not seen him." He gestured to a plate of biscuits. "Scone?" he added.
Good lord, even the biscuits were going by fancy names now.
"Since when did you take up baking?" Alan asked.
"I'll have you know that I am good at chemistry," Charlie huffed. "Besides, I didn't say I made these. Amita said that Larry had left them."
That would account for the fancy-schmancy name, Alan conceded.
"No thanks," he said. "I'll stick to toast."
"Suit yourself," Charlie picked up a scone and buttered it liberally. Apparently, there was nothing wrong with the scones, as the boy polished off the first one, and then stuck a second into his mouth while pulling plates and mugs from the cupboard.
Alan sighed. In his day, people put the food on the plate before eating it.
Charlie poured himself a mug of coffee. He poured a second one and handed it to Alan. "I was thinking maybe we need to add another bathroom," he said. "If Amita moves in... which she'll probably do once we get married... she'll need some, um, "girl space"."
The line about "once" Charlie and Amita got married distracted Alan enough that he didn't think about his coffee before he took a big swallow.
And promptly spat it out.
He glared.
Charlie tried for an innocent expression. Again, it had looked better twenty-six years ago.
"What did you do to my coffee?" Alan growled.
Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Your coffee is no different than mine," he said. "You saw me pour it."
Alan grabbed Charlie's mug and took a swallow. It wasn't until the over-sweetened beverage hit his palate that he realized that he hadn't actually seen Charlie drink the coffee.
He managed to spit the vile substance into the sink rather than on the floor.
"How much sugar did you put in here?" he managed to croak.
"One fourth of a cup," Charlie said innocently. He glanced at his watch. "Well, I've got to change and get going."
"What about the coffee?" Alan sputtered.
Charlie shrugged. "Just throw it out," he advised. "We have plenty." He stampeded up the stairs, presumably to change into work suitable clothing.
Alan heaved a deep sigh. For all his math genius, the boy just didn't understand the concept of waste not, want not. Alan sc owled at the coffee pot full of undrinkable liquid. Surely there must be something he could use it on.
Then a grin began to form.
Or somebody he could use it on.
It was April 1st all day. Robin was working long hours this week, so Donnie would likely drop by at some point.
Author: Jelsemium
Characters: Charlie, Alan
Word Count: 946
Dedication: To the Ones I Love. (That would be you.)
Rating: K
Alan checked his watch as he fastened it on. He noted the time... and the date.
He headed downstairs, determined to stay on his guard. Donnie wasn't likely to come by this early just to play a prank. He was too busy and generally too solemn these days.
Charlie had more opportunity, but he was absent-minded enough to forget about April Fool's Day. Amita was more of an unknown, but Alan doubted that she would play a prank on him. She was too well brought up, or so he hoped.
Larry, on the other hand, was liable to try anything. (Purely in the name of scientific inquiry, of course.)
The blessed perfume of coffee wafted through the house, letting him know that somebody was up. He walked into the kitchen and found his younger son munching on a biscuit and watching the afore-mentioned ambrosia percolate through the fancy coffee maker. (In his day, they were just coffee pots, Alan huffed to himself.)
"Morning, Charlie," Alan said. "You're up early?" Since he might be in Jeopardy, he phrased it in the form of a question.
"Hm? Yeah, I have an early class," Charlie muttered. He scratched his clean shaven chin. "Good morning, Dad," he added belatedly.
"Hm," Alan looked Charlie over critically. In his opinion, the younger man was dressed more for painting houses than teaching math... a faded orange t-shirt with musical notation imprinted in white, an overshirt the color of a well-used basketball, ratty jeans and sneakers that had probably been white when they'd been in the store.
He almost said something, then he remembered the date. His imagination ran through the scenario.
Him: Is that what you're wearing to work?
Charlie: Um, yeah, why?
Him: In my day, a professional work work clothes to work.
Charlie: April Fool!
He decided to keep his mouth shut on the topic.
***
"Where is everybody?" Alan asked he cocked his head to catch any sounds indicating the presence of other people. The kitchen wasn't large enough to conceal anybody, but he looked around anyway.
Charlie scratched his chin again as he mulled that over. "Well, Don's probably at work. Megan and Terry are still back east... New York and DC respectively. Nikki is headed to hostage negotiation class. I would assume that David, Colby, Liz and..."
Charlie ducked Alan's half-hearted swat. "I meant, I wanted to know the where-abouts of the people currently over-nighting in this residence," he growled.
Charlie gave him an impish grin that had been cute twenty-six years ago.
"That means Amita and Larry, as I can see where you are and I don't need a GPS thingie to tell me where I am," Alan added hastily.
"Ah, okay," Charlie said. "Amita went to her place to fix her hair. Apparently we don't have enough room in our tiny bathroom to accomodate all of her haberdashery equipment."
The coffee maker was making blurping noises to indicate that it was nearing the end of its cycle.
"I have no idea where Larry is," Charlie continued. "I have not seen him." He gestured to a plate of biscuits. "Scone?" he added.
Good lord, even the biscuits were going by fancy names now.
"Since when did you take up baking?" Alan asked.
"I'll have you know that I am good at chemistry," Charlie huffed. "Besides, I didn't say I made these. Amita said that Larry had left them."
That would account for the fancy-schmancy name, Alan conceded.
"No thanks," he said. "I'll stick to toast."
"Suit yourself," Charlie picked up a scone and buttered it liberally. Apparently, there was nothing wrong with the scones, as the boy polished off the first one, and then stuck a second into his mouth while pulling plates and mugs from the cupboard.
Alan sighed. In his day, people put the food on the plate before eating it.
Charlie poured himself a mug of coffee. He poured a second one and handed it to Alan. "I was thinking maybe we need to add another bathroom," he said. "If Amita moves in... which she'll probably do once we get married... she'll need some, um, "girl space"."
The line about "once" Charlie and Amita got married distracted Alan enough that he didn't think about his coffee before he took a big swallow.
And promptly spat it out.
He glared.
Charlie tried for an innocent expression. Again, it had looked better twenty-six years ago.
"What did you do to my coffee?" Alan growled.
Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Your coffee is no different than mine," he said. "You saw me pour it."
Alan grabbed Charlie's mug and took a swallow. It wasn't until the over-sweetened beverage hit his palate that he realized that he hadn't actually seen Charlie drink the coffee.
He managed to spit the vile substance into the sink rather than on the floor.
"How much sugar did you put in here?" he managed to croak.
"One fourth of a cup," Charlie said innocently. He glanced at his watch. "Well, I've got to change and get going."
"What about the coffee?" Alan sputtered.
Charlie shrugged. "Just throw it out," he advised. "We have plenty." He stampeded up the stairs, presumably to change into work suitable clothing.
Alan heaved a deep sigh. For all his math genius, the boy just didn't understand the concept of waste not, want not. Alan sc owled at the coffee pot full of undrinkable liquid. Surely there must be something he could use it on.
Then a grin began to form.
Or somebody he could use it on.
It was April 1st all day. Robin was working long hours this week, so Donnie would likely drop by at some point.