Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Is this dress too short?”
Remington frowned at the mirror, struggling to get his fingers under the edge of the tight material to tug further down the backs of his exposed legs. He sighed when he heard a thump, and looked back at Sam, now sitting on the floor with both hands clasped over her mouth.
“You do remember it’ll be your turn next week, don’t you? And I get to pick your outfit?”
She snorted, then gave in to laughter as her arms wrapped around her stomach, tears streaming down her face as she fell sideways on the floor.

Chapter Text

Damn, when had it got so hot in town?

Grabbing the front of their t-shirt, the builder started to flap it in the vague hope of getting some cool air circulating, but it didn't seem to make much difference. They hoped they hadn't caught whatever the bug going round was. The clinic was filling up faster than Xu and Phyllis could manage, and was in desperate need of the four half finished hospital beds they were currently working on.

Maybe a food would help? Or a drink, at the very least. But that would involve getting up from the floor, and really, who had the energy for that?

"Hi there. Everything ok?"

The builder cracked open one eye, and tried to focus on the tall shadow looming over them. Brown trousers, tan jacket, and…ah. Green hair.

"Hey Rem," they managed to wheeze, before breaking off into a hacking cough. "All, good. Just, taking, break."

Remington stared down at them, and they could only imagine the way his eyebrow would be hitching up, since he was too far away to see details.

But then his face came into focus, because he was crouching down, and delightfully cool fingers pressed onto the builders head. They couldn't stop the small whimper, or fight the urge to press against them, which led to Rem settling his whole hand over forehead and eyes.

"What are we meant to do with you?" Rem asked quietly, his husky voice rolling over and wrapping around them like a warm blanket. "Let's get you inside, and then I'll go and fetch Xu-"

"No, I'm fine," they cut across, before jerking their head to the side to cough violently. They'd hate to get Rem sick. "I'm… fine…"

Rem sighed heavily, and they thought maybe he'd leave to get Xu anyway. But large, warm, gentle hands were sliding under their shoulders and thighs, and they were being picked up like they weighed nothing and cradled against his wide firm chest.

"While normally the safety of Portia is my number one priority, right now I think making sure you're ok just knocked it down to second place. So stop fighting me, you hear?"

Chapter Text

Arlo winced as the gate creaked loudly, hand shooting up to hold his temple. Even with all the pain meds Xu had given him, it was still pounding and throbbing and damn if he didn’t want to sleep for the rest of the week, no, the rest of the month .

“Arlo? Hun, what’re you doing home so oh sweet baby panbats what the fuck happened to your face?”

He grunted, and squinted at his lovely, kind, considerate, loud builder as they rushed over to him, their hands reaching up to flutter uselessly around his own. He slid his hand back into his hair, gripping the strands and trying to use that sharper pain to anchor himself as he pulled the ice pack away from his cheek with his other.

“Plierimps,” he slurred, hating how he could feel something dribbling over his cut lip. “Four.”

“Oh you poor baby. Come one, let’s get you inside and wrapped up in bed. Do you need anything? Can you even have anything? Here, did Xu send instructions home for you for anything I need to do?”

Arlo grunted as he let himself be led inside and fussed over, hating how he was leaning heavily on his darling.

But also loving the fact he was home.

Chapter Text

"Hey Gust, I haven't seen QQ in a while, is he ok?" Gust rolled his eyes at Albert as he crossed the office and headed towards his desk. 

"QQ has seemed to be ill these last few days, so I've left him at home with Ginger. I'm going to ask that builder to see if they can find some aroma apples for him when I see them next" 

Gust didn’t think much more of it until he headed home for lunch as usual, only to stop before he’d fully stepped inside. 

"Ah, Gust my boy. I'm glad you're home. Now, I have some news that may be a little unsettling for you." 

Gust eyed his father, who was standing by the coffee table and nervously rubbing his hands together. He really wished Gale would simply tell him whatever it was instead of drawing things out like this, but he swallowed down his frustrations as best he could.

"Yes? What is it?" 

"Ah, well, you see. It's about QQ." 

Gust felt his heart jolt in something like fear as he straightened, eyes slipping from his father to start scanning the room. 

"QQ? Why? What happened? Is he ok?" 

"Ah, yes, yes, QQ is perfectly fine now, don't worry. But you may want to sit down for what I'm about to tell you."

QQ was fine now ? That wasn't actually reassuring. Gust started walking towards the rest of the house, seeing as his pig obviously wasn't here in the main room. If there was something wrong with his pig, he wanted to know. Now . 

"QQ?" he called, and turned towards the stairs leading up to Ginger's room, where he heard the stupid pig squeaking. He took the steps two at a time, and swung himself into his sister's room.

Only to stop at the sight of QQ laying down, nursing a handful of pink and brown babies. 

"......." 

"As I was trying to tell you Gust, QQ is a she. And congratulations on becoming a grandfather."

Chapter Text

Mic blinked at the door in sleepy confusion when someone started banging on it loudly, like they were throwing their whole arm into it. It was, it wasn't even eight yet they confirmed with a glance at the clock, slowly pushing them self up from the table with a yawn. They'd only moved in two days ago, so who in Peach's name could possibly want them so desperately for anything?

They grabbed the blanket wrap from the back of the sofa to cover their pyjamas, and started trying to flatten their bed head, before giving up with a grumble. Screw it. If people wanted to bother them this early, while they were still adjusting from Barnarock time, then they could deal with messy hair and pyjamas.

Throwing the blanket back where it had been, Mic carefully moved to the door around the piled up boxes they hadn't got round to unpacking yet as whoever it was knocked again, even more violently. It stopped as they got closer though, and a voice was murmuring something they couldn't quite make out, until they pulled the door open.

A tall red head was scolding a blond kid, apparently holding the kid by his backpack and pulling him away from the door. They both stopped talking to look up at Mic then, and while the man had the grace to blush and wince after his eyes had scanned down then up again, the kid was glaring with an overly serious expression.

"You gotta move out," the kid said, flapping a hand at the man's still on his backpack, before giving up and crossing his arms, standing up as tall as he could. Which wasn't very. "This is our playground, and you're trespassing, so you gotta move out."

The man sighed heavily, eyes closing and starting to look pained, but the kid wasn't done.

"There are rules about this! The house was empty and we were using it to play in, so that means it was ours! Fair use! Squatters rights! So that means you gotta move out and live somewhere else and what did you do?"

Mic blinked at the pain and horror in the kids voice as he finally shook the man off and moved forward, leaning between them and the doorway to look inside the workshop. The whining sound he made would probably have been funny, Mic thought, if they'd had their coffee.

A groan from the man drew their attention, and he was half heartedly glaring at the boy, then looking embarrassed as he met their eyes.

"Sorry about this," he said, truly sounding like he was. "I have no idea where he learned any of that, and I tried to explain to him that it wasn't how it worked in this case, but he got away from me before I could catch him. I'm Arlo, by the way, with the Civil Corps. And this is Toby."

"But it is how it works Arlo! Mr Issac said so himself, and you know he knows everything and is never wrong! And look what he, no, she… Hey, are you a boy or a girl?"

Mic looked down at the kid, brows lifting and trying not to smile. They could appreciate how delightfully honest and straightforward kids could be sometimes. And they were sure they’d appreciate it even more when they’d woken up properly.

"Neither. I use they, and my name is Mic."

"K. Arlo, look what they've done to the haunted house! It's all patched up and fixed and not haunted anymore, and I can't see any of our things! You really have gotta kick them out!"

"Your things? Oh, you mean this stuff?"

Mic stepped back and looked around, trying to remember where the box full of random toys and makeshift weapons had gone to. Ah, there. They grabbed it and brought it back, setting it down in the doorway, and finally gave into the smile when the kid’s face lit up in excitement.

“My practice sword! Aww yeah. Thanks Mic.”

The kid stopped rummaging through the things, looking up at them like he was trying to puzzle something out. Mic looked back, lifting a single brow, which the kid's eyes latched on to and he gasped with delight.

“Ok. Maybe you aren’t so bad. You can stay after all, but you gotta teach me how to do that!”

Chapter Text

"Thanks for letting us stay till the water pipes are fixed."

"No problem Arlo! Anything to help the pair of you!"

Smiling in acknowledgement, Arlo hitched his bag higher on his shoulder, and opened the builders factory door before stopping. Not moving even as Remi tapped his back, and then only moving slightly when he was pulled out the way enough for his teammate to see round him.

There was one single bed inside.

And it was already occupied.

By llama.

Not just one llama.

Oh no.

But an entire herd of llama!

"What's…? Oh! So that's where they went!"