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chiseler · 3 years

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Hero of Our Nation

I first encountered Roger Ramjet on a Chicago public access station in 1983. It was part of an early morning show apparently aimed at stoner insomniacs. The show came on at five and also included episodes of Lancelot Link, Secret Chimp, that awful Beatles cartoon, and a weather report clarified by some appropriate pop song (“Here Comes the Sun” or “Here Comes the Rain Again”). I was usually up and around that early for some godforsaken reason, and originally started watching on account of Lancelot Link. Always did love that Lancelot Link. But Roger Ramjet was, well, let’s just say it was a revelation.

Roger Ramjet, “ that All-American good guy and devil may care flying fool” (as he compulsively introduces himself) was a none too bright and none too coordinated drug-dependent space age superhero in an ongoing battle against the assorted forces of evil (or more specifically, N.A.S.T.Y.) to preserve the American Way of Life. He was square-jawed, straight-laced, straight-faced, and True Blue if little else, so hyper-patriotic that nearly every time his name is spoken aloud an American flag, a bald eagle, or a rotating ring of stars appears on the screen. After catching one or two episodes, I forgot all about Lancelot Link.

The show was easy to overlook, especially when squeezed between the Beatles and some secret agent chimps with a psychedelic band. The episodes were only five minutes long (maybe seven with the abrasive theme song filling out the opening and closing credits), and were so crudely drawn and animated it might at a glance seem like something a couple of junior high school kids threw together in their basement one weekend. The shows were so primitive they hardly bothered with niceties like “backgrounds” satisfied instead to settle for rudimentary suggestions of a setting. But the writing was so sharp and the voice talent so good what it really felt like, if you paid attention, was a spoof of a ‘40s radio serial like Sky King or Gangbusters, complete with a soap opera organ and illustrated by a handful of jerky drawings scratched out by someone’s kid. People who thought Jay Ward’s Bullwinkle and Dudley Do-Right were crude when compared with the output from Disney or Warner Brothers had no idea what “crude” meant.

Looking at it today what it reminds me of more than anything are the paper cutout animations of the earliest episodes of South Park, before they upgraded to Flash. Along with the lo-fi stylistics, the humor was clearly aimed at an adult audience while pretending otherwise. You may not find any child molestation jokes or crass religious cracks in Roger Ramjet, but for 1965 the lightning-fast humor was pretty hepcat and sophisticated, with undisguised satirical references to the Cold War, Central American turmoil, and the Vietnam War (“Hey kids, this is Roger Ramjet,” demanding that you stay tuned to this station to see my next adventure,” Roger announces in his commanding superhero baritone. “Or I’ll see to it that all you little rascals are drafted.”) . Mixed in with the topical jokes we also get some highly unlikely name drops, from Noel Coward and Henry Cabot Lodge to James Joyce and bawdy nightclub performer Rusty Warren, as well as film parodies and literary nods to the likes of Catch-22 and Catcher in the Rye. It’s also a little less than what you might call racially sensitive by modern standards (consider Mexican revolutionaries The Enchilada Brothers, Beef and Chicken).

While a lot of the more timely jokes might be lost in the murk of the over 50 years since it first aired, there’s plenty of rapid-fire absurdity that’s timeless, from the misspelled title cards punctuating the narration to the self-consciously dumb coked-up adventures.

Bullwinkle aired from ‘61 to ‘64. Roger Ramjet came along a year later and Jay Ward’s influence is undeniable. The difference was Roger Ramjet crammed the equivalent number of bad jokes, references, and plot twists of a typical 8-part Bullwinkle serial into each five-minute episode, both mirroring the rapid-fire screwball dialogue of the ‘30s and the frenetic quick-cut comedy to come along a year or two later in shows like The Monkees and Laugh-In.

The episodes were produced with essentially no budget and were cranked out very quickly by a small team of writers, voiceover artists and animators with solid day jobs in radio and TV. They were all seasoned pros, some dating back to the days of classic radio, who worked on the show after hours as a way of letting off a little steam and tossing around a few cynical, subversive cultural jabs their day jobs wouldn’t allow. The show was created originally by animator Fred Crippen (who went on to work on some pretty dreadful crap like the Extreme Ghostbusters and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) and Ken Snyder, an ad exec who moved over into producing cartoons. They brought in a remarkable team of voice talent and comedy writers, including Gene Moss (the voice of Smokey the Bear) Jim Thurmam (who did a lot of kids shows including Sesame Street), Dick Beals (the original voice of Gumby), and the great Gary Owens, a drive-time deejay in LA who would get national recognition soon enough as the on-screen announcer for Laugh-In. Although they would all get specific credits in the end (Crippen as director, Moss as a writer) it was a communal effort, in which everyone contributed to the writing, and everyone, even the executive producer, did a few of the voices. Apart from the regular crew, careful listeners might also catch a few uncredited guest appearances by some surprisingly big names (I’m told Sinatra and Dean Martin appear in an episode, but I’m still looking for that one). Owens was the star, though, as his ability to read the most ridiculous lines in a dramatic deadpan made him the perfect Roger Ramjet. Together they made 156 episodes (about 150 still exist), which were sold directly into syndication in ‘65 as half hour shows, each containing three unconnected adventures. I can’t say as I’m exactly sure who they thought their target audience was at the time, except maybe each other.

Much like William Conrad in Bullwinkle, each show opened with our narrator, Steve Allen alum Dave Ketchum, setting the mood and the scene (“In today’s depressing episode,” he’d begin with dramatic enthusiasm, or maybe it was an “existentialist episode,” “phlegmatic episode,” “rickety episode,” “hairy episode,” or “ethnic episode”). Then we’re out of the gate at a breakneck pace, with a flurry of gags coming from every direction. “Ramjet rode into Boot Hill,” we’re told, “where the men were men and the women were men, which can get pretty old after awhile.”

While none of the shows are connected, there are a few recurring characters and locations worth remembering: Roger hails from Lompoc, an actual California town (“where nothing ever happens, and seldom does”) and takes his orders from General G.I. Brassbottom, a no nonsense military man who “hadn’t had an original idea since he was a civilian.” He’s also assisted by Yank, Doodle, Dan, and Dee, the unusually chubby kids who make up the American Eagle squadron. Like Roger, all the members of the squadron wear their white jumpsuits and flight helmets at all times (Roger even wears his helmet on dates), and in true superhero sidekick fashion, their primary job is to get Roger out of scrapes and make sure his drugs are handy.

That’s one little detail more than a few casual viewers have taken umbrage with. Roger, see, is a pretty hapless character most of the time, but he repeatedly saves the world thanks to a little help from his Proton Energy Pills (PEP), which take five seconds to kick in, then give him the strength of 20 A-Bombs for 20 seconds. Modern viewers seem a little uncomfortable with the idea of a superhero gulping amphetamines in order to function, but all I can say is, well, it was a different time, and hey, it worked for Roger and Elvis both.

The proton energy pills come in handy when dealing with his arch-nemesis Noodles Romanoff, the short, trench coat and fedora wearing head of N.A.S.T.Y. (the National Association of Spies, Traitors, and Yahoos). Romanoff may not have a Natasha, but he does have a gang of cronies and thugs who all mumble in unison (save for one, who can’t seem to get the rhythm).

Along with Romanoff and his gang, Roger also has to contend with some lanky alien robots, the Solenoids (voiced by executive priducer Ken Snyder), and their repeated efforts to invade the planet in assorted ridiculous ways (in one episode, they begin kidnapping all the Miss America contestants, who “were disappearing faster than co-eds at a Dartmouth weekend.”)

When not saving the world, Roger found himself competing with the smarmy hotshot test pilot Lance Crossfire (who sounds an awful lot like burt Lancaster) for the affections of Lotta Love, the fickle Southern belle with a taste for the finer things in life.

Then there are the adventures themselves. Some seem standard superhero fare, but only to a point. Earth is besieged by flying saucer attacks (sort of). Roger’s hometown is terrorized by a werewolf (sort of). Roger plays tennis with a kangaroo, or becomes the first man to surf in space, or, in a personal favorite, attempts to stop the flow of bootleg comic books into America’s drug stores.

Actually, there’s an interesting moment in that one that revealed just how subtle you could be even with animation this unsophisticated. Okay, so Noodles Romanoff, see, is replacing real comics in drug store racks with bootlegs in which popular superheroes are humiliated, all in an effort to destroy the morale of America’s children. After Brassbottom shows Roger a few examples (the issues include “Superman Gets Beat Up by a Chicken!” and “Ratman Stubs His Toe!”) he explains that if this sort of thing continues, “America’s kids won’t have anyone to look up to except YOU, Ramjet.” Then, for just an instant in that crude and jerky style, Roger cuts his eyes toward the camera, revealing in that moment everything we needed to know, namely that it’s what he’s always wanted.

Thirty years on and that still sticks with me.

In the end, though, the characters and storylines are secondary at best In Roger Ramjet. At heart it’s a matter of trying to keep up with all the lightning-quick jokes and wordplay, the non-sequiturs and references. In the five minute span of one cowboy-themed episode I counted nods to at least seven classic Western films, from High Noon to She Wore a Yellow Ribbon, and I suspect I missed a few. It really is such a dizzying blur of dialogue and bad puns and cultural references, sometimes, christ, even just references to old jokes that take the form of bad puns (“Waiter, there’s a spy in my soup” or “how many angels can swim in the head of a beer?”), that absurd as it all is, repeated viewings are a necessity to catch everything. It’s a bit like having the complete contents of an issue of MAD magazine jammed onto a single page. It can make your head hurt after a while, but it’s worth it. Whether the density and the pace make it better or worse for stoner viewing is something, I guess, each stoner will need to answer for him or herself. Lots of bright colors, though.

In 1965 there was nothing new about making cartoons with adult sensibilities in mind. Betty Boop and Bugs Bunny were made to be shown as short subjects to largely adult audiences. Jay Ward’s cartoons a few decades down the line were near-revolutionary for smuggling hip, subversive political humor into what had become an exclusively child-friendly format. What made Roger Ramjet so radical was it’s blend of ‘30s radio style with mid-’60s cynicism, as well as its foreshadowing of our shrinking attention spans, a hyper-condensed proton pill of comedy and commentary disguised as just another dumb, low-rent superhero cartoon. Although it’s barely remembered today, its influence is still evident in most any subversive animated show you can name, even if they’ve slowed things down a bit.

by Jim Knipfel

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remywrites5 · 4 years

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Remus looked at himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. He really needed to get more sleep, the bags under his eyes had taken up permanent residence there, and his roots were starting to come in. He spat into the sink and then rinsed his toothbrush off. When he glanced back up at himself, there was the same harrowing reflection staring back. He needed to at least re-dye his hair pink or else pick a different colour.

He’d dyed it pink on a whim after his last breakup. He thought maybe going from his usual tawny curls to something else would make him more exciting, more cheerful, more something. “Why are you never smiling?” Benjy had asked Remus all the time. As if Remus should just constantly be smiling like some kind of insane person.

Remus walked over to his desk and flopped into his rolling chair. He sat with one leg bent up towards his chest and hunched over his tablet. The thing was so old it was practically a dinosaur. The program he used to draw on was always crashing – causing Remus to do almost constant saving. Drawing web comics wasn’t exactly the most lucrative use of his art degree, but it paid the bills.

There was some sort of ungodly sound outside and then the distinct clatter of something breaking. Remus jumped to his feet in surprise, wondering if someone had climbed up to his flat to murder him. Two shadows appeared at his door and then one of them knocked. Well, if they were murderers, they were of the polite variety.

Remus walked over tentatively, his pen for his tablet still in his hand as his only means of defense. He figured at the least maybe he could poke a few eyes.

“I don’t think anyone is home.”

“He has to be home. I haven’t seen him leave the house in days.”

“Hmm, paying close attention, are we?”

“Shut up, Jamie.”

“Ow!”

Confused, Remus opened the door to find two guys standing on the other side. The dark-skinned one with glasses immediately smiled, while the pale one with long dark hair kept his face neutral.

“Hiya! I’m James and this is Sirius,” James said, moving what was in his hand so that he could wave. “We run the bakery downstairs. We just came to introduce ourselves and bring you these!”

Remus took the container when James offered it, still a little bit stunned by the whole thing, and opened it up. Inside was an assortment of baked goods. “Oh. Thank you,” Remus said, a little bit at a loss for words. “This is really nice.”

Remus was suddenly struck by the fact that two very attractive men were on his doorstep and Remus was wearing the same hoodie he’d worn for three days. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d put on deodorant. Embarrassed beyond belief, Remus felt his cheeks flush.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” James prompted his friend, shoving at Sirius’ shoulder.

“Hi,” Sirius said, running his fingers through his shoulder-length hair.

Remus swallowed thickly and quickly put the container of goodies down. He didn’t trust his shaking hands not to drop them. “Nice to meet you.”

“Whoa, are you an artist?” James asked, noticing the pen in Remus’ hand. “Do you think you could design something for us?”

“James, don’t impose,” Sirius said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m not imposing!” James insisted, turning and shooting Sirius a look. “We’ll pay for the work. It’s just right now our menus are so bland! They don’t really say ‘Padfoot and Prongs’ Patisserie.”

“That’s a fancy name,” Remus said, tucking the pen behind his ear so that he could shove his hands in his pockets. Suddenly they’d gotten all sweaty.

“Yeah well, this wanker is half French, so he wouldn’t let me call it a pastry shop,” James said teasingly. “By the way, you haven’t told us your name.”

“Oh,” Remus said, realizing that James was right. He shuffled his feet slightly and kind of wished James and Sirius would leave. He hadn’t had such a long social interaction in months. This was getting to be a bit much, and James’ enthusiasm was draining. “Remus. Remus Lupin.”

“So do you think you can design something for our menus?” James asked excitedly, his hazel eyes big behind his glasses.

“Um, sure, I’ll take a stab at it,” Remus offered, even though he kind of didn’t want to. He had deadlines to meet and he was already a little behind. But then James and Sirius had brought him baked goods without having even met Remus before. Besides, how hard could designing a menu be?

“Great!” James said, slapping Sirius on the back. “Isn’t that great, Padfoot?”

Sirius sighed. “Sure is.”

Remus pulled out his wallet and handed James one of his business cards. It had been Benjy’s idea that Remus get them. This was only the second Remus had even given out. The first one had been given the Benjy. What a waste of money.

“My email is at the bottom,” Remus explained, pointing to it on the card. “Just send me the details of what you want and I’ll work something up.”

Sirius tilted his head to the side. “What are your rates?”

“Um…” Fuck, Remus hadn’t exactly thought about it. He knew what he charged per page on his web comic but this was completely different. “How about you just, um, let me get a free baked good from time to time and we’ll call it even?”

“Of course!” James said, nodding emphatically.

“Hold on,” Sirius interjected, putting his hand up to stop James. “For the rest of time you want free shit from us? Just for a doodle?”

“Sirius –“ James cut in, his face slightly aghast at his friend’s harsh tone.

“I – I won’t abuse it or anything,” Remus said, feeling his face heat. Christ, the way Sirius was looking at him made him nervous. “It won’t be every day or anything like that.”

Sirius huffed and turned his face away. “Fine. But I reserve the right to cut you off.”

“Okay.”

“Perfect,” James said, tugging on Sirius’ arm. “We should get back downstairs. We’ve still got a lot to do before we open. I’ll email you later, Remus!”

“Sounds good,” Remus said, waving after them as they started down the fire escape. The moment he closed the door, he felt like he could breathe a little easier. He didn’t know what Sirius’ problem was, but the fewer interactions Remus had with him the better.

***

Remus finished up the latest update for his comic and sat back with a groan. It was already 10:30 at night and Remus hadn’t had any dinner. For once he had been in a good flow and hadn’t wanted to stop. Now his stomach was so empty it hurt. He couldn’t remember eating breakfast either.

He walked over to where he had left the baked good James had dropped off and carried the container into bed. He sat munching on them as he scrolled through his phone. He had eaten about half of them when he remembered James was supposed to contact him. He pulled up his email and sure enough there was a message from James Potter.

Apparently they wanted something kind of classy involving a buck and a black dog. Remus was intrigued, and popped a custard crème into his mouth. Their stuff really was mouth-wateringly good. Remus was glad he had asked for pastries instead of cash. While he could use the money, he tended to live on instant noodles and bacon sandwiches. Having something from the bakery from time to time would be a real treat.

***

Remus’ flat was on the top floor of the building and it meant he had almost exclusive rooftop access. He hadn’t done much with it except put out a table and two chairs. He really only went out there to smoke anyway. He stood by the side of the roof with his elbows on the ledge, watching the street below, his cigarette resting between his lips.

Sirius exited the bakery and walked down the side alley of the building. He seemed to be having a heated discussion with someone on the phone. Remus felt himself tracking Sirius with his eyes, even though he didn’t mean to.

“Damn it, Reg, I already told you –“ Sirius seemed to be cut off by the other person on the phone. “I don’t care if they cut me off. I’m not going on a blind date that my mum set up with a woman! I haven’t lived in that house for five years and she still thinks she can control me. Now she’s even roping you into it.”

Remus felt a bit bad for eavesdropping, but the street was relatively quiet at that time of day, so it was difficult not to hear. Remus wondered why Sirius had said woman like that, as if he were offended by being set up with someone female. Remus didn’t want to get his hopes up that Sirius might also be gay. Thinking that was a dangerous route to go down. He tried to finish up his cigarette and go back inside before he was spotted, but it seemed Sirius was done with his conversation. He dropped his phone by his side and looked up at the sky. His eyes seemed to immediately land on Remus and Remus felt his cheeks heat up in response. He took a slow drag of his ciggy and let it out, letting his eyes drift away as if he hadn’t just been staring.

He wasn’t wholly surprised when he heard footsteps making their way up the fire escape. He finished his cigarette and lit another one. He usually didn’t chain smoke like this, considering all the nicotine often made him dizzy, due to how little he ate most days. He turned when Sirius made it onto the roof and somehow managed to meet Sirius’ accusing stare.

“How much of that did you hear?” Sirius asked, slipping his phone into his pocket.

Remus scratched his cheek with his free hand. “Uh, the whole thing?”

Sirius sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Can I bum one of those?”

Remus opened the pack and shook one out towards Sirius. Sirius slid it between his lips and leaned in when Remus flicked the lighter to light it. Remus hadn’t noticed it the first time they met, but Sirius had grey eyes. Remus had never seen someone with eyes like that before.

Remus had no idea what to say, so he just continued smoking, watching Sirius out of his peripheral vision. It was a little awkward, but not unbearably so, and it seemed Sirius was happy to smoke in silence. Sirius’ apron was covered in flour, and what Remus hoped was jam of some kind. not something more nefarious based on its red colour. The last thing he needed was a Sweeney Todd situation in his building.

Remus and Sirius finished their cigarettes at the same time and both killed them in the ashtray. They were standing so close, should to shoulder, and Remus had no idea why that made his heart race. He turned towards Sirius in order to say his goodbyes, and suddenly Sirius was even closer.

“Well, I should –“

Remus didn’t finish that sentence as Sirius was leaning in. He was moving with intent and his lips just barely brushed against Remus’. Remus gasped, the sound getting swallowed up as Sirius’ lips pressed more firmly against Remus’. Remus let himself enjoy it for a moment, Christ, it had been so long since he’d kissed someone, before he brought himself back to his sense.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, pushing Sirius away.

Sirius’ eyes searched Remus’ for a moment and then he took another step back. “Fuck, I – I’m sorry. I don’t even have an excuse.”

Remus grinned as he watched Sirius flounder for a moment. He decided to let Sirius off the hook. It was just a little kiss after all. “Hey, I’m almost done with the menu design. Do you want to see it?”

The tension in Sirius’ shoulders ebbed at Remus’ offer. “Yeah, sure.”

Remus told Sirius to sit down at the little table while Remus went inside to get his tablet. He brought it out and sat down across from Sirius. He opened up the menu design and placed it in front of Sirus. He was actually a little nervous as Sirius looked it over. It was a buck and a dog running through a forest surrounded by berry bushes. James had explained in the email that their homemade jam was a huge selling point for them and they wanted the menu to emphasize that.

“It’s not too dark, is it?” Remus asked, chewing his bottom lip.

“No, I think it’s perfect.” Sirius glanced up, and for the first time Remus had seen, Sirius smiled. “We’re doing a soft opening in two days. You should come.”

“Will I have to pay?” Remus teased, resting his chin in his hand and looking at Sirius.

Sirius laughed. “Fine, you don’t have to pay. What kind of pastry do you like best? I’ll make it for you.”

Remus considered it for a moment. “Jammy dodgers.”

Sirius’ grin widened. “You got it.”

***

Remus went to the soft opening, even though he hadn’t been around that many people in a while, and it put his social anxiety through the roof. He met James’ wife, Lily, and their son, Harry. He also met quite a few of James and Sirius’ closest friends. Even though everyone was very nice, Remus couldn’t help feeling a bit like an outsider.

However, Remus didn’t miss the way that his jammy dodgers seemed to be the only ones with little hearts in the middle. That knowledge alone was enough to make him stick around.

***

Remus was in trouble. His web comic was about a werewolf and a vampire that fell in love with each other. The werewolf character struck a striking resemblance to Remus, although the character had Remus’ original hair colour. The idea had come to him based on his name. The vampire character, however, had short dark hair and red eyes. Yet, whenever Remus found himself drawing him, his hair seemed to be getting progressively longer for no discernable reason and his eyes seemed to be grey.

It didn’t help that Remus saw Sirius pretty much every day. During his lunch break, Sirius would bring up something from the bakery, and they would sit together at the little table and eat and smoke. Remus had gotten to know Sirius, little by little, cracking away at Sirius’ shell to the gooey center underneath. Despite his first impression of Sirius, and his original cold exterior, Remus found the man himself was mushy and romantic and sweet.

Remus told Sirius about the fact that he’d always meant to make a little rooftop garden, but as of yet hadn’t really gotten around to buying any plants. Sirius showed up the next day with a little tree.

“It’s called Dogwood,” he’d said with a knowing grin. He had continued to buy Remus several flowers and plants since then. He’d even brought some herbs for cooking, even though Remus insisted he didn’t really cook. Every time Sirius and Remus found a place for the new plant, Sirius would get that same smile. A smile that had started to cause butterflies in Remus’ stomach.

There was no talk about the conversation Remus had overheard or of the kiss they’d shared. Remus figured both topics were off limits.

Maybe that’s why he couldn’t get Sirius out of his head.

***

Remus dropped his head back and groaned. “I told you if you didn’t stop me I would eat all six éclairs.”

“An impressive feat,” Sirius said, grinning behind his wine glass as he took a sip.

“I hate you,” Remus said, scrubbing his hand over his face. He was starting to sweat a bit from overeating. “I’m going to put on so much weight.”

“You could use some more meat on your bones,” Sirius responded with a shrug. “You barely eat as it is.”

“I was right, this is a Sweeney Todd situation, you’re fattening me up to put me in a pie,” Remus bemoaned, clutching his stomach. That last éclair had really done him in.

“We don’t even serve meat pies at the bakery,” Sirius said in amusement. “I think you’re safe.”

“I’m not buying it,” Remus said, staring at Sirius accusingly. “Why else would you bring me all these sweets?”

Sirius glanced away, twirling his wine glass between his fingers. “For an excuse to come see you.”

“Oh,” Remus said, a blush rising to his cheeks. “Really?”

Sirius stood up and walked over to Remus, placing his hand on the back of Remus’ chair, and leaning into him. “So, I made a mess of our first kiss. Think you might let me try again?”

“Um.” Remus stared up at Sirius and let out a shaky breath. “Yes. W-we can do that.”

Sirius slid his fingers through Remus’ curls until his hand came to rest at the back of Remus’ head. Then he guided their lips together into a soft kiss. Remus opened his mouth first, and Sirius was quick to follow suit, their tongues meeting in a mixture of chocolate, wine and cigarettes. Remus eagerly chased the taste from Sirius’ mouth.

Sirius pulled back after a few life-altering moments. Remus felt his eyes flutter open to find that Sirius was smiling at him. God, Remus loved it when Sirius smiled. “I could eat you up, I really could,” Sirius sang softly.

Remus busted out laughing. “Do not sing Sweeney Todd at me when you’re trying to be romantic.”

Sirius chuckled and pulled Remus up into a hug. “Noted. Should I just tell you I love you then?”

Remus hugged Sirius back, burying his face in Sirius’ neck, ignoring the deep blush currently on his face. “I-I think that would work.”

“Well?” Sirius asked expectantly, turning his face and pressing a kiss to Remus’ forehead.

Remus hugged Sirius tighter. “I love you too.”

Remus stood there, in a moment so like a fairy tale that he didn’t want it to end, wishing he could freeze time. He stood in the moonlight, embracing the man he had come to adore, surrounded by all the plants Sirius had bought just for him. It felt like more than Remus deserved, but he wasn’t about to let it go. He could only hope the next moment would be just as sweet.

#wolfstar #I write things #fluff #bakery au #can you tell I just read The Baker On the First Floor?#sirius black x remus lupin #I don't know why there's so many sweeney todd references in this #they just kind of happened #long post #background jily #pink haired Remus inspired by Fel #artist Remus #baker Sirius #smoking

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lastbluetardis · 4 years

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Family of Six (14/14)

After James and Rose bring their newborn twins home, they work to find a balance between all four of their children, and each other. Ten x Rose AU, Soulmates AU.

This chapter: Teen, 7600 words

Ages of the Tyler-McCrimmons at the start of the chapter: James: 39, Rose: 34, Ainsley: 9, Sianin: 6, Twins: 5 months

If you like reading my stories, consider leaving me a tip? Or leave a reply on this post to tell me what you thought? And as always, reblogs are very much appreciated so more people can see this.

AO3 | TSP | FF | Perfectly Matched Series

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14

The Monday after his blowup with Rodney, James dreaded going into the university. It broke Rose’s heart to see him dawdling through his morning routine, allowing himself to get distracted with the girls to keep him from leaving for work. He asked to bottle-feed the twins, and while he did that, he played a game of Scrabble with Ainsley over the breakfast table.

Rose stood behind James’s chair and draped her arms around his neck to watch him play the word “veneer”.

“What’s that?” Ainsley asked, cocking her head to the side.

“A layer of something to make it more aesthetically pleasing,” James answered. “Usually applied to old wood or stone to make it look a bit nicer.”

Rose could almost see the gears of Ainsley’s mind working as she catalogued the word, then shifted her attention to her own playing tiles.

“You don’t go easy on her, do you?” Rose murmured into his ear.

“She’d fillet me alive if she knew I let her win at this,” James retorted.

Rose watched her daughter set down the word “quiver” with a proud smirk that looked just like her father. The ‘q’ landed on a double letter bonus and the ‘e’ reached the double word bonus, earning her a grand total of fifty-six points.

“Do you feel sorry for her anymore?” James pouted, scribbling down her score. With that word, she had soared into a healthy lead.

“Not one bit,” Rose said, grinning. “Though I’m beginning to feel sorry for you.”

“How is that game any fun?” Sianin asked as she stuffed a spoonful of oatmeal into her mouth. “It’s like school all over again. We’re on summer holiday, Ainsley.”

“It’s fun to try and make words from a random assortment of letters,” Ainsley said, pulling a new set of tiles from the velvet bag.

“We have very different ideas of fun,” Sianin grumbled.

Rose snorted, and contented herself to stand behind her husband and watch the progress of the game. When it was over—with James narrowly winning by three points—and the twins had finished eating, James jumped up to help with the dishes.

“No, you’ve got to get to work,” Rose said gently, placing a hand on his chest to halt him from going to the sink.

His face fell.

“We’ll be by for lunch,” Rose reminded, rubbing her hand up and down his chest. “Just think of that. A little less than four hours to get through before you see my glorious face again.”

The corners of his mouth lifted in a halfhearted attempt at a smile.

“I love you very much,” Rose said, sliding her hands up until she could wrap her arms around his neck.

He hugged her tightly.

“It’ll be okay, love,” she whispered into his ear. “It’ll be okay. You’ve got some students coming to your office this morning, then you’ll have lunch with me and the girls, then you’re covering what’s-his-name’s class this afternoon. After that, you can come home. See? Easy peasy.”

“I know,” he sighed, turning his head to kiss her cheek. “Thanks.”

She gave him one final squeeze then released him. After goodbye kisses to the girls, James scooped up his bag and coffee thermos and headed out the door.

“What’s wrong with Dad?” Ainsley asked, settling beside Rose at the sink to help with the dishes.

“He had a small argument with one of the people he works with, and he’s a little nervous to see him,” Rose answered.

“What were they arguing about?” Sianin asked.

“It’s none of our business,” Rose said.

“But Daddy told you,” Sianin pointed out.

“Okay, it’s none of your business,” Rose amended. “It’s grown-up problems.”

Sianin let out a long-suffering sigh, but didn’t push any further.

All morning, Rose worried about James. She wrote encouraging messages on her arms, as well as little doodles and outlandish declarations of love. He drew smiley faces beside each note, or a series of x’s and o’s, but otherwise didn’t respond.

When it was time to meet James for lunch, Rose corralled the girls into the car along with a bag of swimming gear, as she promised to take them to the pool that afternoon.

“Sian, take Ainsley’s hand,” Rose commanded as she worked on getting the twins set up in their pram in the university car park. “And don’t go anywhere.”

“There’s no one around,” Sianin said.

“It’s good practice,” Rose said. “Besides, in a couple years, you and Ainsley will be big helpers to make sure the twins don’t go racing off across the road.”

As she buckled the twins into the buggy, she heard Ainsley and Sianin sniping at each other. It didn’t sound too rude, so she let them handle it themselves.

“Ready?” she asked.

Ainsley and Sianin turned to her and nodded. Ainsley kept hold of Sianin’s hand as they walked towards the science building. Once inside, Rose waved cheerily at the employees in the front office and ducked inside so they could ooh and ahh over the twins and exclaim about how big Ainsley and Sianin were getting.

Five minutes later, Rose loaded the kids into the lift to take them to James’s office on the sixth floor. Knowing the way, Sianin bolted out of the lift the moment the doors opened and nearly jogged down the corridor.

“We use our walking feet when we’re indoors,” Rose called after her.

Sianin made a small effort to slow down her pace, but when James poked his head out of his office, she sped into a full-out sprint.

“Daddy!” she squealed, as though she hadn’t seen him in four days rather than four hours.

“Indoor voice,” Rose chastised, but she couldn’t help but smile as Sianin jumped into her father’s open arms.

“How is my favorite six-year-old doing today?” James asked, pressing a kiss to Sianin’s cheek as he stood with her on his hip.

“Good,” she replied. “How’s my favorite daddy?”

“Favorite daddy?” James squawked. “Last I checked, I was your only daddy.”

He bounced her in his arms and tickled her ribs, making her squirm and laugh, batting at his hands. The sound of an office door—Rodney’s—slamming shut startled him into stopping.

“Oops,” Sianin whispered, cringing. “Sorry.”

“It wasn’t you, darling. Your volume was fine,” James said firmly.

He gave her a squeeze and set her on her feet, then greeted the rest of his family. He kissed the top of Ainsley’s head, then peeked into the baby buggy, but both twins were napping. With a bright smile that never failed to turn her bones to liquid, he turned to Rose.

“Hi,” she said, smiling back at him. “Have a good morning?”

She tilted her cheek towards his offered kiss.

“Yeah, it wasn’t bad,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. Addressing the girls, he asked “Ready for lunch?”

Ainsley and Sianin led the way back to the lifts, leaving their parents behind. James slipped his arm around Rose’s waist and kept pace with her down the long corridor.

oOoOo

James hadn’t been lying to Rose when he said her opinion of him as a father and husband was the only one that mattered to him. However, it wasn’t enjoyable to be surrounded by people who, he now realized, had been silently judging him. Nevertheless, he kept his head high and a smile on his face as he passed his coworkers in the corridors.

With his shortened summer term hours, he didn’t need to spend too much time at the university. Any time he did spend there, he was either teaching, marking papers, or meeting with students to help them with material they didn’t understand. After all of his work was finished for the day, he was free to go back home to his family. He wasn’t sure how he would adapt when the fall term started; he certainly couldn’t hide in his office for eight hours every day.

Lunchtime was the hardest for him. He usually would eat in the faculty lounge with the rest of his coworkers, but ever since that dreadful confrontation between him and Rodney that everyone had witnessed, it had become awkward.

So James took to eating alone in his office. If he felt particularly pathetic, he would ask Rose to join him. If the weather was nice, he would eat outside or trek to the dining hall, where there was a faculty lunchroom on one of the upper floors.

He usually sat alone, but one day, a stranger decided to dine with him.

“You’re new here.”

James was absently twirling his fork through noodles when a woman slid gracefully into the seat across from him at the little two-person table he was eating at. The woman was around his age, give or take a few years, with big bushy curly hair.

“I’m Professor River Song,” the woman said, extending a hand towards him. “Anthropology department, focus in archaeology.”

James set down his fork and took her hand, shaking it once. “Professor James Tyler-McCrimmon. Physics department. And chemistry, I s’pose. They’re in the same building. They sort of overlap, don’t they? Well, depending on the topic. But they complement each other nicely.”

James’s cheeks heated at his rambling, but the woman just smiled at him in amusement.

“How long have you been here?” River asked, spearing her fork through her plate of pasta.

“Oh, I’m not new,” James explained, remembering her opening line. “Nah, I recently decided to take my lunches here. New experiences and all.”

The woman looked like she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t press it. Instead, she asked him about his research interests and what he had studied in graduate school. She, in turn, told him about her graduate school experience, and how she’d gotten to travel across the world to various archives to write her thesis.

They talked for over an hour until River’s phone chimed.

“Oh, hell,” she sighed. “I’m twenty minutes late for a meeting.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you,” James said, hoping none of his own students had stopped by yet for office hours. “I should probably get going too.”

“This was nice,” River said, sliding her phone back into her pocket. “We should meet up again some time.”

“I’d like that,” James said, smiling.

“Laters,” River said with a wink, then she strode out of the dining hall.

James met up with River a couple times a week for lunch, talking about everything and nothing. They had similar interests outside of the university, and often discussed politics or sports or books. Taking lunch with her made the work day much more tolerable; he was glad to have a friend who wasn’t associated with any of the drama happening within the department.

Rodney had well and truly written James off and barely acted as though he existed, causing the rest of their coworkers to walk on eggshells around them both. Mark, it seemed, was the only one who stood up for James; however, James often saw Mark chatting and laughing with Rodney, too. He tried not to be too offended.

He confided in River a little bit about what was going on between him and his colleagues without going into specific details. He merely told her that he and his mates had “very different opinions that made situations slightly uncomfortable”.

“That sounds like a load of shit,” River said cheerfully. “And extremely unprofessional. Grown adults should be able to put aside their differences, eh?”

James rolled his eyes and sniffed. “I won’t set aside my morals to make peace with someone.”

“Not sure taking the high road is working in your favor, mate,” River drawled.

“I made a new friend out of it,” James said, gesturing towards her.

Her eyes twinkled as she grinned at him, and they continued their banter until James’s phone buzzed in a text.

Pipe burst under the sink in our room. Plumber can’t come ‘til tomorrow morning. I’m currently sifting through the mess.

“Oh dear,” he murmured under his breath. “So sorry, River, but I’ve got a wee emergency at home. Burst pipe.”

“Sounds like a delight,” River said, sipping her coffee. “Take care, James.”

He hastily bade his goodbyes than rushed home to help Rose. He didn’t know exactly what he could do to help, but he was sure she would appreciate another set of hands to clean up.

When he arrived at the house, he found the twins in the living room and Rose in their en suite, sitting before a damp vanity and shoulders-deep into the cabinet beneath.

“Where are Ainsley and Sianin?”

She flinched. He winced when he heard a thunk.

“Shit,” she hissed, massaging her elbow as she retreated from the cabinet.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, folding his legs under him as he sank to the floor beside her.

“Your dad offered to entertain them for the afternoon,” she said. “Good luck to him, though; Ainsley’s in a mood today.”

“Oh?” he asked, frowning.

“Yeah, it was weird. She had a bit of an attitude and was short-tempered with everyone. Not sure who pissed in her cereal, but I was so tempted to shut her away in her room until she sorted through whatever mood she was in. Then I lost my temper with her when she flat-out refused to move from the sofa to grab a bag of nappies from the nursery. She then claimed I’m a lazy mother for always making her look after her little siblings.” Rose rubbed her palm into her eyes. “I thought she liked helping with Sianin and the twins.”

“She does,” James soothed. “She’s just… having a really bad day, I suppose.” He rested his hand on her thigh and gave it a squeeze. “I’m sorry love. And I’m sure she is too. You can talk it out when you’re both in better moods.” He jutted his chin towards the open cabinet door. “Have you shut off the water line to those pipes?”

“Nah, I figured I’d let it keep dripping all over our stuff.”

James pinched her leg, then scooted closer to the cabinet to reach inside and haul item after item out for inspection.

For the next hour, they worked together to mop up the water and sift through everything to determine what could or could not be salvaged.

“We’ll have to remember to replace those,” James said, inclining his head to the soggy, ruined box of tampons and pads. “And soon. You’re just about due, aren’t you?”

Rose hummed noncommittally, as though she hadn’t particularly heard him, and continued taking inventory of her makeup kit. Entire palettes of eye shadow and rouge and foundation had been lost.

James chucked a couple rolls of toilet paper into the garbage bag between them when Rose asked, “What’s the date?”

Her voice was faint, and he turned to her. Her cheeks had lost all color.

“You all right?”

“What’s the date?” she repeated impatiently.

“Ehm… August seventh? Eighth?”

Rose scrabbled for her mobile and began tapping at the screen, muttering under her breath. She ticked her fingers against her leg, as though keeping count.

“Rose, what’s the matter?”

“It can’t be… I can’t be!” Before he could ask again, she said, “I didn’t get my period. It should’ve come… I don’t know when. Two weeks ago? I can’t bloody remember when it was I last had it.”

James’s ears began to ring dully, sure he’d misheard her. “Excuse me?”

“I missed my period.” She buried her face into her hands, digging her palms into her eyes. “I can’t be pregnant. I can’t be. We’ve been careful!”

“Not necessarily,” James said, his stomach churning uncomfortably. “There have been a few times we’ve chanced it, when you said we were safe.”

“So this is my fault?” Rose snapped.

“Of course not. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Rose’s shoulders slumped. “Shit. Shit shit shit!”

James mechanically rose to his feet, his brain full of cotton and static as he tried and failed to process the influx of information. But he took it one step at a time, and the first step was to actually confirm their suspicion. “I’ll go out and buy a test. I’ll be back.”

“Shit, James. What are we going to do?” The helplessness in her voice broke his heart.

“You are going to stay here and continue cleaning up,” James said, nodding to their soaked cabinet. “I am going to go out and buy a pregnancy test. And then we’ll figure out what to do. Together.”

James walked out of the room without another word. He gathered his keys and wallet and made his way to the chemist’s.

Pregnant. Rose might be pregnant. Again. The universe must be playing a cruel joke on them, for making it so difficult to conceive the last time around, only to bring them an unplanned pregnancy mere months after they’d had their twins.

She might not be, said a little voice in his head. Don’t panic until you know for certain.

James tried to listen to the little voice in his head, but it was hard. He didn’t know if it made him a worse father for wishing Rose wasn’t pregnant, or for dreading the idea that she was.

Time blurred around him. He was vaguely aware of the drive into town then back home again, a small bag of pregnancy tests in the passenger’s seat.

Rose had made no more progress on cleaning their en suite, but he didn’t blame her. She was sitting in the exact same position as when he’d left her, and she jumped when he called her name softly.

He wordlessly handed her the bag of three pregnancy tests, then sat on the floor to wait. She joined him a minute later, and together they stared at the developing tests.

Slowly, a faint little negative sign bloomed across three different test windows.

Not pregnant.

James breathed out a sigh of relief, the tension flowing out of his body.

“Dodged that bullet.” Though Rose’s words were grateful, her tone was clipped.

He turned his head to look at her, but she had her eyes locked on the three tests in front of her.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah.” She smiled at him, but the expression was brittle, and her eyes made it seem like she wasn’t seeing him. “Really. I didn’t want to be pregnant.”

He nodded slowly, wanting to believe her.

She stood abruptly. “I need some air. I’m going for a walk.”

“Talk to me,” he said, shooting to his feet.

“Please, James. I need a minute.”

Déjà vu squeezed his lungs until he couldn’t breathe. How many times had she been so disappointed by a negative test result that she’d gone on a run to brood in her thoughts? How many times had she gone off on her own and cried over her heartbreak and feelings of failure? How many times had he overlooked just how upset she was?

“Don’t shut me out,” he begged. “Please. Talk to me. Please.”

“How can I talk to you about what I’m feeling when I don’t even know how I feel?” Rose asked, her tone a little sharp. “Please, James. I need to think. Let me think. Then we’ll talk.”

“Promise?” he rasped, feeling childish for making her swear it.

Her face softened. “Cross my heart.” She drew an X across her chest, then across his, like he always did with their kids. “I need to be alone for a little while, but I’m not shutting you out.” Something in her eyes cleared, and her brows furrowed. “Are you okay? Will you be okay if I leave?”

Part of him selfishly wanted to tell her no, but he wouldn’t make her stay when she wanted space to think alone. So he nodded, and focused hard on breathing. Rose said she was okay, and that they’d talk. He had to trust that, to trust her. They would talk. They would sort out their emotions. They would be okay.

He repeated that mantra again and again as Rose pulled on her shoes.

“I’ll be back within an hour,” she promised.

He nodded, and then she was gone.

His brain screamed at him to go after her, to demand that they talk right now and fix whatever it was that was bothering her. He needed to know if she genuinely was happy that they weren’t pregnant.

What if she realized she was upset by the test result? Unbidden, he was taken back five years, to when Rose had taken a pregnancy test that turned out negative but sparked their desire for another baby. Was history repeating itself? Would Rose realize she wanted another baby, and they would go back down that road of uncertainty and failure and heartbreak and…?

Stop it, he hissed.

Desperately needing a distraction, he wandered into the living room where the twins were napping in their swings. The knot in his chest loosened as he beheld the two beautiful babies that were the end result of his and Rose’s pain. They were worth it. He would do it all again if it meant having Hannah and Maddie in his life.

But he didn’t particularly want to do it all again. He didn’t want to see the devastation on Rose’s face as they tried and failed month after month to make a baby. Besides, wasn’t their little family perfect as it was? Did he even want more children? Surely if he said he was finished fathering children, Rose wouldn’t make them try for another baby? But was he even one-hundred percent sure that he was done fathering children?

He tried to think ahead a few years. The spread of ages of their children was quite varied. By the time the twins were toddlers, Ainsley would be almost a teenager. Would he want to start over again with a baby when Ainsley was going through puberty and Sianin was only a few years away from it, too?

But on the other hand, if they wanted another baby, it would probably be a good idea to have one within a couple of years so that the new baby would be relatively close in age with the twins. However, they had twins. They already came as a paired, package deal. They could entertain each other as they grew up.

James’s head began to throb, and he sank to his bum in front of his babies. “Oh, my darlings, your daddy is having a day.”

He slowed the rocking of the swings and unbuckled each twin, bringing them onto the floor with him. Though they each stirred upon being moved, they eventually fell back to sleep. He lay down beside them and gazed into their faces.

They were the most gorgeous things he’d ever seen. Their soft, pale skin. Their little button noses. Their fair hair. He grudgingly had to admit that Rose might be right: their hair did appear as though it was growing in red. He made a note to ask Rose where the red-haired gene came from—her father had had red hair, hadn’t he? And Donna had gotten her red hair from somewhere. Though they were distantly related, those genes were swirling somewhere inside of him too.

“I love you both so much,” he murmured to the twins, his throat closing. “I love you so, so much.”

Tears burned behind his eyes as he watched his babies sleep. He didn’t know how he could feel simultaneously happy and sad. How he could feel like smiling and crying.

“Do you think you two would like having a baby sibling one day?” he mused, watching the rise and fall of their chests as he breathed. “Or do you think our family is complete as it is. A family of six. Six is a great number, innit? Half a dozen. Way better than the family of four that we used to be before you two came along. Though what about a family of seven? Oh, Lord. What if we had another set of twins? Family of eight? That might be a bit much, eh? Oh, I dunno…”

He heaved out a sigh that was loud enough to make Maddie flinch. “Sorry, darling. Daddy’s having a bit of trouble right now. You see, your mummy thought she might be pregnant again. She’s not. And I think she might be a wee bit upset about it, even though she said she’s not. Am I being paranoid? Am I overthinking things? I probably am. I wish she’d come home so we could talk.

“What if she wants another baby, though? I have no idea if I want another one. I mean, we just got you two. I’d like to enjoy you both for a little longer before considering adding a new baby to the mix. Obviously if your mummy fell pregnant a couple months from now, I would love that baby so much. I love all of my babies. But I think it’d be a bit hard.

“What am I even doing? Why am I obsessing over this when I don’t even know what your mummy is thinking?”

He scrubbed a hand over his face and continued chatting softly to his sleeping babies as he waited for his wife to come home.

True to her word, Rose returned home fifty-three minutes later. He was still on the floor, but pushed himself to a sitting position when she walked in.

“I’m so sorry,” she said by way of greeting. “I’m sorry I just… ran out on you.”

“Are you feeling better?” he asked, patting the floor beside him.

Rose plopped down beside him and scooted the twins closer to them. She began absently playing with Hannah’s feet as she said, “Yeah, I am. I’m sorry. I got stuck in my head, in my memories. Seeing those negative tests brought back all the times I sat on that very floor in our loo, praying for a positive result. Only today, I was praying for a negative one. And even though the test came out the way I wanted it to, I couldn’t seem to escape all of the times I’d had my heart shattered again and again over the course of four years. And not just my heart, but yours too. I kept seeing your disappointment and hurt in my head, and being in that room, sitting there with you… it made it all come rushing back, and it was just as painful as it was the first time ‘round. But at the same time, I was so relieved to not be pregnant again. I was confused and needed to be alone somewhere that didn’t have memories associated with it. I’m sorry.”

James placed his arm around her shoulders and tugged her into his side. “I understand. You don’t need to apologize. I completely understand what it’s like to get stuck in your head. Well, my head. You know what I mean. Are you okay?”

“I am, yeah,” she said. “Are you?”

“I am now,” he replied. “I… I’ll admit I was panicking a little bit while you were gone. But Hannah and Maddie are great little listeners.”

“Your turn. What were you panicking about?” she asked.

“It’s stupid,” he confessed, because it really was now.

“It’s not,” she argued. “Please, James?”

“I thought you would decide you wanted another baby, which would put us back on the track we were in five years ago. I began panicking that we were about to spend the next four years trying and failing to get pregnant.”

Rose let go of Hannah’s feet and turned into him to wrap her arms around his waist. He clutched her fiercely to him, burying his nose in her hair. It smelled like wind and sunshine and summertime.

“I love you,” she whispered into his neck.

“Love you, too,” he mumbled into her hair. He pulled back to look her in the eye. “We’re okay, right?”

“Yeah, we’re okay,” she answered, smiling faintly. “Though I’m upset this brought back bad memories for the both of us. I mean, it’s been years, and we’ve got the twins now. I guess I’d thought we put all of those demons to rest, y’know?”

“We went through something traumatic,” he said gently. “An old wound is still a wound, no matter how healed you think it is.” He paused, but then asked, “So… is this indicative that we’re done having children? If we were so relieved we’re not expecting again, does this mean we’re happy with our family as it is? If so, we can get some sort of permanent birth control performed. It doesn’t even have to be you; I’ll gladly have my bits snipped away, just say the word and…”

“Slow it down, love,” Rose said, amused. “I don’t know how permanent I want our birth control to be. I don’t know if our family is complete as it is. I am perfectly content with my life, and I’m so happy and in love with you and our girls. But I don’t know if I’m done having children. Unless…” She cocked her head to the side. “Are you finished having children? Are you dead set against any more?”

“What if I said I was?” James asked carefully, trying to buy himself some time. Despite brooding over it for the past hour, he still hadn’t come to a conclusion about whether he wanted to have more children or not.

“Then I’d happily drive you to the hospital tomorrow to get your bits snipped off,” she said playfully. More seriously, she added, “I don’t want any more babies unless you do as well.”

“Before anyone snips at my bits, let’s take some time, eh? I think I’m in the same boat as you… I don’t know if I’m ready to permanently close myself off to the idea of having more children. I don’t want any more right now, but within the next couple of years?” He shrugged. “And maybe I’ll never decide that I’m ready for another child. But can you make me a promise?”

“I’ll try,” Rose said, wary.

“If you decide one way or another—either you really want another baby or you really don’t—let me know immediately?”

“I will make that promise as long as you do, too,” Rose said.

“I promise,” he said. “Cross my heart, pinkie swear, deal.”

He drew an X across both of their chests, then hooked his little finger around hers, and finally shook her hand, sealing the vow. He grinned when Rose laughed at him.

“Oh, I love you, you daft nutter,” she said, her eyes bright.

“Your daft nutter loves you too. Very much.”

“I’ll have a chat with Elizabeth about alternate forms of birth control,” Rose said. “I don’t want to go back on the pill again; it threw my hormones and emotions all out of whack the last time I tried to go on it after Ainsley was born. But maybe there’s an injection or an implant or something I can get. I’ll try to remember to give her a call to schedule something.”

“Sounds good.” He leaned his head against hers. “Shall we go back to cleaning up?”

It took another hour or so to clean up the mess. When they were done, they loaded the twins into their car and drove over to Robert’s house to collect their eldest children. Robert and Sianin were in the front garden playing when they arrived.

“Mummy!” Sianin said, racing up to them.

“Hi, baby. Are you having fun with Grandad?”

“Uh huh! Grandad said we had to play outside since Ainsley’s ill. He taught me something called football. But not football. American football! It’s played with a weird-shaped ball and nobody actually touches it with their feet.”

“Ainsley’s ill?” James repeated.

“Sianin, why don’t you start cleaning up?” Robert suggested. While she picked up the toys and games from the grass, he explained, “I think she might have gotten a migraine. She complained that her head hurt, then all of a sudden she said everything hurt. The TV was too loud, the lights too bright, her clothes too scratchy. I set her up in her bedroom. She’s been asleep for nearly three hours now.”

Rose made for the house, and James followed on her heels. They walked to the room Ainsley and Sianin shared when they slept over at Robert’s house, and saw their daughter curled in a tight ball with her pillow over top her head. She was utterly still except for the slight rise and fall of her chest.

Not wanting to disturb her, they backed out of the room.

“That might explain her short temper,” James mused.

“God, why didn’t she tell me she wasn’t feeling well?” Rose asked.

“Maybe she didn’t know what it was?” he suggested. “I’ve gotten migraines before where the first symptom was irritability because everything was too overstimulating. It’s not ‘til later that the headache and sensitivities began.”

“Still feel awful,” Rose mumbled.

“Speaking of feeling awful, we left the twins in the car.”

Rose groaned and jogged outside, but Robert had taken the babies out of the car and was sitting with them and Sianin in the grass. Sianin had both babies’ hands in each of hers and was rocking them backwards and forwards. Each baby was giggling and squirming with delight.

“Mummy, Daddy, watch this!” She then proceeded to push and pull the babies, sending them into another fit of laughter.

They stayed at Robert’s for another half hour. Ainsley eventually found them outside, and though she claimed she felt much better, she was pale and shaky.

James and Rose bade Robert farewell, then loaded up the kids into the car and drove home. Though she’d slept all afternoon, Ainsley immediately went to the couch and laid down.

“Let’s try to be quiet since Ainsley’s not feeling well,” James whispered to Sianin. “Indoor voice only, and the television must stay quiet.”

Sianin nodded and, to their surprise, she went to the sofa and sat by Ainsley’s head. The six-year-old stroked her elder sister’s hair and turned the television volume down so low that it was virtually impossible to hear.

Ainsley fell asleep almost immediately, and after a while, so did Sianin.

James and Rose took this opportunity to play with their babies. They cringed any time a baby squealed with delight, but when it was clear their oldest children were dead asleep, they stopped worrying so much about Hannah and Maddie staying quiet.

Both babies rolled all over the floor—the newest trick they’d learned—and James and Rose amused themselves by placing objects around the living room floor for the twins to roll to.

“James, look!”

James tore his attention from Hannah, who was more interested in sucking on her toes than rolling towards her stuffed rabbit, to look at Maddie. His heart nearly stopped when he saw his five-and-a-half-month-old baby was on her hands and knees. Though wobbly, she maintained the position.

“How’d she do that?” he demanded, racing across the floor to plop beside Rose and Maddie.

His sudden appearance startled Maddie, who flopped face-first onto the floor. Her eyes went wide, then scrunched as she let out a wail.

“Oh, no, darling,” James cooed, picking her up to set her on her bum. “Daddy’s sorry he frightened you. You’re all right. No harm done.”

Maddie blinked big wet eyes at him, her bottom lip pouting out. James smiled reassuringly at her, and she grinned in return.

“There we are,” he said, tickling her ribs lightly. He swiped his thumbs under her eyes to wipe away the unnecessary tears.

Maddie babbled out a string of sounds, then she reclined onto her back and rolled onto her tummy. She lifted her head to look at her parents, as though making sure they were watching her.

“Go on, Maddie,” Rose urged. “Let’s get up on those hands and knees again, eh?”

Maddie beamed, then she looked down at the floor, enthralled by her hands like she’d never seen them before. She then planted her palms on the rug and began doing pseudo-pushups.

“Come on,” Rose said. “You can do it, love.”

Maddie surged her weight backward, finally getting her knees under her.

“How marvelous, darling!” James breathed. He reached behind him for Rose’s mobile, and he opened up the camera app. He snapped a series of photos of Maddie on her hands and knees, then took a short video as she rocked herself.

She soon tired of the position, and she sprawled onto her stomach and rolled onto her back. She let out an annoyed squawk and lifted her hands into the air. Rose placed her index fingers in Maddie’s palms, and helped the baby sit up onto her bum. She grinned at them.

“Who’s my strong little girl?” Rose cooed, bouncing the baby’s hands in front of her. Maddie squealed happily, flailing her hands wildly. “You’re my strong little girl!”

Maddie leaned forward towards Rose, reaching out and babbling. Rose picked Maddie up and brought her to her chest. Rose leaned back against the couch, taking care not to disturb Ainsley and Sianin, and brought her knees up, letting Maddie sit back against her thighs.

“She’ll be crawling before we know it,” James said, tucking himself into Rose’s side.

Hannah noticed that her parents were no longer paying attention, and so she let out a loud shriek. James winced and crawled to his other baby. She beamed as he stared down at her.

“You can roll over to us, darling,” James said dryly, picking up the baby and crawling back to Rose and Maddie.

“But why would she when she has a daddy to carry her around everywhere?” Rose asked sweetly.

He stuck his tongue out at her.

“It’s going to become a madhouse when these two can get around on their own,” Rose said.

“Gotta start being conscious with baby proofing,” James agreed. “And getting Ainsley and Sianin to realize how important it is to be more careful around the house, too. No more leaving small pieces of things laying around. Covering electrical outlets.”

Rose sighed, taking Maddie’s hands in hers and clapping them together gently. The baby cooed and watched her hands in fascination.

“All right?” James asked.

“Yeah. The house just… it seems so much smaller now at the prospect of these two becoming mobile.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like… Ainsley and Sianin have their toys spread throughout the whole house. But we’re going to need to move them. At least the ones with small, loose pieces. We can move some of them to their bedrooms, but there’s already loads of toys in their rooms.”

“Sounds to me like we need to have a toy cleanse,” James teased. Rose didn’t answer, and James knocked his shoulder against hers. “What are you thinking?”

“That we ought to consider moving into a larger house,” she said honestly. “Meaning we ought to consider moving up to your family’s manor in Scotland.”

“Oh?”

Rose nodded resolutely. “Our kids are only going to get bigger and start accumulating more stuff. And yeah, we can try to limit the amount of stuff they have, but I don’t want to force them to get rid of things they’re not ready to part with. And it’s just… all of the rooms in the house are taken. I feel awful that you have to mark papers in our bedroom when you want someplace quiet to go. And I don’t have a space with good lighting to work on my art, unless I want to do it here in the living room. And from our conversation this afternoon, what if we do decide to have another baby in the future? We have nowhere to put them. The manor is probably far too much room than we actually need, but—maybe I’m spoiled for saying this—I’d rather have too much space than not enough.”

“Rose, breathe,” James said, amused. “You don’t need to defend yourself, love.”

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly.

“You’ve clearly been thinking about this for a while,” he noted curiously.

“Maybe a little bit. Though it’s always been in the back of my mind since learning we were having twins. D’you remember?”

Now that she’d mentioned it, he did recall the conversation they’d had upon returning home from the sonogram exam with the knowledge they were having two babies. They’d discussed moving to the Scottish manor one day, and clearly that day had arrived.

“Okay. So let’s say we decide to move up to Scotland,” James mused. “When would this move take place? Now? In a couple months? In a year?”

“I was thinking next summer,” Rose said. “That gives us plenty of time to get the girls mentally prepared to leave the only home they’ve ever known. And we would have time to get the manor ready, if any repairs or updates or renovations are needed.”

“We’d have to find a time to go up to Scotland to check out the house. Get an idea of what work we’d want done to it.”

“Christmastime,” Rose supplied. “We’ll be there anyway. Might as well poke around and make notes and maybe talk to a contractor or two.”

“You’ve considered everything, haven’t you?” he asked, tugging at the end of her ponytail.

“Perhaps,” Rose said. “And if we moved in the summertime, there’s the added bonus that the kids will have the summer to adjust to the move and their new home before starting at a new school.”

James smiled at his wife, incredulous and impressed with how well thought-out and planned her idea was. He reached over and rubbed Maddie’s belly slowly, watching the slow blink of her eyes as she succumbed to sleep, then turned to Hannah. She was chewing on the side of her fist, drool dripping down her chin and cheeks.

“Charming,” he drawled to his baby.

She beamed and gurgled up at him. He couldn’t help but smile back at her. His heart was so full of love for his family. Though a small pang went through his chest at leaving behind the home that he and Rose had raised their children in, he couldn’t deny that he would love to share his childhood home with his family.

“Would being in Scotland be too difficult?” Rose asked quietly. “For you or your dad? Because your mum…” She trailed off with a small, helpless shrug.

“I can only speak for myself, but no. I miss my mum, and will always miss my mum, but thinking of her doesn’t hurt anymore. At least, not usually. All I have left of her is my memories, and those are happy things. So no, I don’t think it would be too difficult to live in that house. Besides, I grew up mostly in the United States. From growing up, the Scottish house holds memories of holidays, and we’ve already had loads of holidays there since Mum died.”

“Will you let me know if you change your mind?” Rose asked, slipping her arm around his waist.

He nodded, and rested his cheek on top of her head. He glanced to the two babies in their arms, listened to the quiet breathing of Ainsley and Sianin behind him, and basked in the warmth of Rose radiating into his side. His entire world existed solely in this room, and his heart swelled with how much he loved his perfect little family.

“I think moving to Scotland is a good idea,” he concluded, kissing the crown of Rose’s head.

“You don’t want to think more about it?” she asked.

It felt like he’d already been thinking about it for eons. When he imagined his family in Scotland, a sense of rightness settled over him like a blanket, as though that was always where they were meant to end up. Part of him knew that it was inevitable; the house was always passed down through the family, and so he knew he would one day inherit it. But that didn’t mean he had to live there. However, he wanted to.

“No,” he said simply. “It logically makes the most sense, but more than that, I’m excited to move back home. Maybe I’ll get my Scottish accent back.”

He reverted back to the brogue that had disappeared as he had gotten older. He’d often been teased as a child for his Scottish accent, and so it had slowly morphed into a more refined English accent.

“You have no idea how sexy that is,” Rose murmured, eyes darkening.

He gave her a theatrical wink and knocked his shoulder into hers, leaning close to rumble, “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind later tonight… If you want…?”

She shoved her shoulder into his. “Behave.”

He laughed and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Right. So a new chapter awaits our little Tyler-McCrimmon brood, eh?”

“Seems like it,” Rose said, nestling her head into the crook of his shoulder. “So. Reconnaissance mission at Christmas, renovations next spring, relocation next summer?”

“Sounds like a plan,” James said with a happy hum. “A very alliterative plan.”

It was a good plan, and they both were smugly satisfied with themselves for such preemptive thinking.

They relaxed into each other, confident in the new direction their family was headed in.

The End

We’ve made it to the last chapter! This turned out to be nearly double the length I originally thought it would be. Thanks to everyone who has read this story.

As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated.

#ficandchips #dwfic #doctorroseprompts #doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #soulmates #soulmates au #james x rose #soulmates verse #perfectly matched series #family of six #my fic #family fic #kid fic #baby fic

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