Pistachio 14: Going Out
Title: Going Out
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Pistachio 14 (the night before), malt (Olivia : Mother, may I?), whipped cream (Olivia is thirteen).
Word Count: 683
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: "Please, Daddy?"
Notes: Takes place the day before this, and references this.
Olivia met him at the door; something she generally only did when she wanted something. For the moment, though, Hugh was content to pretend that she was just that excited to see him.
"Hello, Daddy!" she bubbled, and threw her arms around him.
He laughed, bent, and kissed the crown of her head. "Hello, Sunny. Let me put my things down and I'll hug you properly."
She let go of him and backed off, a bit reluctantly. "Oh, all right. How was your day?"
"Good enough." He set aside his briefcase, full of paperwork that he would do later while Olivia worked on her homework, and put down the umbrella that he didn't even know why he carried anymore; it never rained in southern California in the summer. That done, he turned to his daughter and wrapped her up in his arms like he'd done when she was still little enough to sweep up in the air.
She giggled, obligingly, put her arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek. "I had a good day, too."
"I'm glad to hear it," he said. Here it came.
To his surprise, Olivia did not elaborate immediately. Instead, she stepped back again, looked up at him calculatingly, and asked, "Do you want a cup of tea? I can make some."
Hugh narrowed his eyes. This must be big. "I'm fine, thanks. What do you want, Sunny?"
She immediately looked determinedly innocent, which told him he'd been right and she was not just feeling the need to be nice to her father. "Daddy! I'm shocked! Can't I just be nice to you without an ulterior motive?"
He shook his head, smiling at her, and moved past her towards the kitchen. "You're thirteen, Sunny. Of course not."
"I resent that," she said, cheerfully.
"Only because it's true," he said, and blew her a kiss to take the sting out of the words. "Come on, now, tell me what you want."
She straightened, clasped her hands at her waist. "Mimi's birthday is today," she said. "And she's having a party tomorrow, and I'd like to go."
That was hardly a reason for all the buildup, since tomorrow was Saturday. Hugh raised an eyebrow at her. "What's the catch?"
"Catch?" Oh, there was that determined innocence again, her eyes wide and 'who me?' "Who says there's a catch?"
"I'm old, not stupid," he said, dryly. "Do you have to miss dance class?"
Olivia abandoned the pretense and shook her head. "No, and anyway I can't miss this week, it's an important rehearsal. No, um, it's just that it's a slumber party."
A slumber party? What was wrong with... oh, because the next day was Sunday. He shook his head, regretful, and a little hurt-- Sundays were their days. Weren't they? "I'm sorry, Sunny, we have church."
She frowned. "Please, Daddy? It's not that big a deal. It's not like I want to stop going to church or anything. And we can still have the afternoon," she added, in persuasive tones.
Tempting. "No, Sunny," he said, more firmly. "I'm sorry, but no. You can go for the first part, but you can't spend the night."
She huffed out a frustrated breath. "But that's the best part! Staying up late and talking about..." She stopped, then continued, "...um, things. It's not the same if you can't stay the night. Please, just this once?"
Olivia's pleading face tugged at his heart, like it was calculated to, but contrary to popular belief Hugh was capable of saying no to his daughter, and if he gave in to every little thing she wanted she would be even more ridiculously spoiled than she already was. And besides, this was important. "No, Olivia," he said, and her face fell when he said her name. "That's final."
She looked at him for a moment longer, as if she was considering arguing. Hugh kept his sternest face on. Finally, she gave a little shriek, threw her hands up, and stomped upstairs to her room.
He sighed, and turned to make himself tea. He'd make it up to her tomorrow.
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Pistachio 14 (the night before), malt (Olivia : Mother, may I?), whipped cream (Olivia is thirteen).
Word Count: 683
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: "Please, Daddy?"
Notes: Takes place the day before this, and references this.
Olivia met him at the door; something she generally only did when she wanted something. For the moment, though, Hugh was content to pretend that she was just that excited to see him.
"Hello, Daddy!" she bubbled, and threw her arms around him.
He laughed, bent, and kissed the crown of her head. "Hello, Sunny. Let me put my things down and I'll hug you properly."
She let go of him and backed off, a bit reluctantly. "Oh, all right. How was your day?"
"Good enough." He set aside his briefcase, full of paperwork that he would do later while Olivia worked on her homework, and put down the umbrella that he didn't even know why he carried anymore; it never rained in southern California in the summer. That done, he turned to his daughter and wrapped her up in his arms like he'd done when she was still little enough to sweep up in the air.
She giggled, obligingly, put her arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek. "I had a good day, too."
"I'm glad to hear it," he said. Here it came.
To his surprise, Olivia did not elaborate immediately. Instead, she stepped back again, looked up at him calculatingly, and asked, "Do you want a cup of tea? I can make some."
Hugh narrowed his eyes. This must be big. "I'm fine, thanks. What do you want, Sunny?"
She immediately looked determinedly innocent, which told him he'd been right and she was not just feeling the need to be nice to her father. "Daddy! I'm shocked! Can't I just be nice to you without an ulterior motive?"
He shook his head, smiling at her, and moved past her towards the kitchen. "You're thirteen, Sunny. Of course not."
"I resent that," she said, cheerfully.
"Only because it's true," he said, and blew her a kiss to take the sting out of the words. "Come on, now, tell me what you want."
She straightened, clasped her hands at her waist. "Mimi's birthday is today," she said. "And she's having a party tomorrow, and I'd like to go."
That was hardly a reason for all the buildup, since tomorrow was Saturday. Hugh raised an eyebrow at her. "What's the catch?"
"Catch?" Oh, there was that determined innocence again, her eyes wide and 'who me?' "Who says there's a catch?"
"I'm old, not stupid," he said, dryly. "Do you have to miss dance class?"
Olivia abandoned the pretense and shook her head. "No, and anyway I can't miss this week, it's an important rehearsal. No, um, it's just that it's a slumber party."
A slumber party? What was wrong with... oh, because the next day was Sunday. He shook his head, regretful, and a little hurt-- Sundays were their days. Weren't they? "I'm sorry, Sunny, we have church."
She frowned. "Please, Daddy? It's not that big a deal. It's not like I want to stop going to church or anything. And we can still have the afternoon," she added, in persuasive tones.
Tempting. "No, Sunny," he said, more firmly. "I'm sorry, but no. You can go for the first part, but you can't spend the night."
She huffed out a frustrated breath. "But that's the best part! Staying up late and talking about..." She stopped, then continued, "...um, things. It's not the same if you can't stay the night. Please, just this once?"
Olivia's pleading face tugged at his heart, like it was calculated to, but contrary to popular belief Hugh was capable of saying no to his daughter, and if he gave in to every little thing she wanted she would be even more ridiculously spoiled than she already was. And besides, this was important. "No, Olivia," he said, and her face fell when he said her name. "That's final."
She looked at him for a moment longer, as if she was considering arguing. Hugh kept his sternest face on. Finally, she gave a little shriek, threw her hands up, and stomped upstairs to her room.
He sighed, and turned to make himself tea. He'd make it up to her tomorrow.