Who: Roger and NPC Holly Bundy What: Never make a blank check? When: 21 May. Evening Where: Roger's Penthouse Status | Rating: Low | Complete.
Roger stared down at the small human he was now charged with and really questioned how he got here. Well, he vaguely remembered. He was pretty sure it was after one of his many injuries and had begged off Laken, who had been hovering. After ensuring a slightly worried Kit that she would have plenty of people around if something happened to her for Holly, the man had just tossed it out there that worse comes to worse, he’d take care of her for however long that was. Tossed out easy in an attempt to make sure Kit felt safer. Ensured enough so her mind was at ease. Who knew that would become a binding contract for him later down the road? Certainly not him.
Which is why he now looked down at a pair of bright eyes looking back up at him with a strange quizzical determination. In the few short hours Holly had been in his care, Roger had managed to acquire proper sleeping situations for the kid (his spare bedrooms where both empty save for one empty bureau and one strange painting he got in London a decade before), packed her attire from Kit’s place while simultaneously hiding evidence that Kit was not gone away for business, discovered that the fuck a Mr. Beep Beep was, and also lied to a child a half dozen times.
He decided that meant he was off to a good start.
But now he was stuck. Casey had laughed. Hard. Then offered a place to distract her. His agent mocked him, heavily, before enrolling her in the daycare system for the Pride. His team gave her a temporary badge and travel pass without publicly decrying their captains major oversight. And his mother solemnly noted this was probably the closest she would get to a child from him anytime soon. Really, it seemed like everyone else was having a jolly ol’ time over his obliviousness.
Outside of the sheer panic he had felt bubbling in his system, Roger also was lost on the fact that Kit had been arrested. He had figured the photographs were her doing—she was a photographer and he could do basic math still. But he had not heralded it mentally as truly anarchist and punishable. Then again, he also was a bit more outspoken than he should be and was only protected by an excellent legal team and his blood status. Kit was a photographer and a halfblood with a bastard child. If ever there was an example to make…
“What do you want for dinner, kiddo,” he asked as he felt they had been staring at each other in silence for too long.
“Nunnies,” Holly chirped excitedly. Excellent. What the fuck was a nunny? That helped not at all.
“What type of nunny,” he tried, hoping it was not another Beep Beep situation.
“Chicky Nunnies,” she explained as though he were being silly. Didn’t he wish? But, it at least explained what was requested.
It also pointed out that beyond the lack of toys, clothing, entertainment, and furniture to house a kid, he also lacked a proper diet. She already demanded to taste his milkshake (protein shake with whey) and asked why he would drink something so icky. He had no idea how to address the fact that it was healthy and tasted better than other options and just decided it was because he was being punished for doing something bad. It satisfied that, but then began the twenty-minute interrogation as to what he did and why he was so bad. And if she had to drink that if she was bad. Result? His chocolate brownie shake was enough to make a child swear on being good.
“Do you want chips,” he asked before getting a notice for a courier to run to the Octopus for him. He did not have remotely anything that would appetizing to the kid minus the obscene amount of snack food that he hid while Holly used the potty. She nodded vigorously from where she sat on the floor. Rex, his border collie, was sprawled across the little girl and her tiny fingers were buried in his fur. At least someone was enjoying this more than everyone laughing at him. Rex was tireless when it came to playing, but he loved nothing more than a good cuddle. And for a child who was suddenly staying with the man she had only met a few times that she could remember, cuddles were needed.
“Can you cook,” she asked.
“Yes,” Roger replied as he filled out the slip and flicked his wand. The notice vanished and was sent to one of the runners in town. He moved to get another for an owl request from downstairs to send the pub the cost for the bill.
“Are you cooking tonight?”
“Nope,” he told her, repeating the process, then moving to open the window.
“Why not.”
“I don’t have chicken nuggets, kiddo.” The owl landed and stuck his foot out for the baggie of coins with a note, Keep the change.
“Why not,” she pressed. Naturally.
“I eat salads or steak mostly.”
“Why.” Roger sighed heavily.
“Because when you grow up, chicken nuggets are no longer allowed.” Okay, lie number eight. Good thing kids rarely keep memories at this age, he noted dismally.
She gasped but remained silent. Roger stared blankly out at the rest of Diagon from his penthouse and really questioned what was happening now. If they dropped the season, he’d have to go on the run. No question about it. Roger would never be asked to join their ranks, but he is enough of a threat. That was easy to digest before now. Suddenly, he had a small child attached to him—one he couldn’t take without telling Kit. And he couldn’t tell Kit without someone else figuring it out and potentially ratting him out. How foolish it was to think that it would not come to this again, after all these years. He figured it would get voted out. Get dropped as the old regime died off in their inability to stay in power. He forgot how tightly old Brits will squeeze when they fear their power slipping.
But for tonight, he had to worry about getting Holly’s new bed made and her clothes put away. He had to put a charm on a candle so it would glow all night and keep the doors open, so she wasn’t scared. He had to get her ready for bed early and prep for getting both of them to the Travel Hub by 0630 for a 0700 start time for weight training.
“Fuck,” he whispered. But the gasp behind him said it was not soft enough.