Diary of a Teenaged Mimic

Dear Diary,

”Don’t have Children you don’t want,

If you don’t want your Children,

Don’t ever let them know that.”

Doctrine of Tabitha, Book of Children

Yeah, I get that sometimes you wind up with accidental kids. Like, none of my present children are ones I went out and said, ’hey, I want a kid, let me see if there’s one available’. I certainly didn’t go about the normal route of ’find sperm, fertilize egg, bake for forty weeks, decant’. I was maybe kinda uncertain about Isnomi at first, because the only thing I knew for certain about kids was that they gave me shit. Like, all of ours are potty trained now, which prevents that, but the weird thing is that even before she decided to potty train herself, I think I’d kind of stopped minding. Oh, don’t get me wrong, shit still stinks, and I do not have any kind of attraction to shit. But I think somehow the intimate maternal process of cleaning up my kid grew on me, until now when I think about it, even if the memories have that hazy kind of feel where I’m not sure if I’m remembering or I’m remembering somebody telling me about it while lightly toasted on Fae weed, I kind of miss it. Like, I think I’d actively enjoy cleaning up a baby if I weren’t cleaning shit off them.

I guess we kinda did deliberately abscond with Ria, but honestly that wasn’t so much us wanting a kid as her mom not being in a great spot to protect one, and her mom being less maternal than me, if you can believe that. Okay, I guess I’ve gotten more maternal since I got shot, and I sure as shit have gotten deep into momming as a kind of vocational hobby now, but Tallulah Crow is not very touchy feely huggy, and however far Sidhe are from human, they seem to still need that oxytocin fix. So she’s ours for as long as she needs to be. I mean, hopefully forever. I’ll never stop thinking of her as ’one of my kids’. As ’my kid’. Because that’s not about ownership, or genetics, it’s about love, and connection. I’m not sure how my mom would feel about a lot of the things I’m doing with this second chance at life, but I’m pretty sure she’d be proud about that. I didn’t get it at the time, but I think my mom’s love language was ’acts of service’, in my case setting things up so I’d be taken care of after she died.

But my point here, and I do have one, is that if you wind up with a kid, you take care of them. That includes making them feel wanted. Even, maybe especially if they’re not. Do what you gotta do when they’re not around, but don’t ever let them know. If you can’t handle that, find somebody who can. If you’re not ready to take care of a kid, don’t have one. If you don’t like kids, get yourself a good diaphragm, or a reliable condom supply, or learn to swallow or spit or take money shots or something. If you’re a guy and don’t want kids? Find alternate targets for your swimmy bois. This isn’t rocket science, if I managed to avoid that shit for nearly two decades, any dumbass ought to be able to.

So yesterday after our kids got done using us as art supplies, which wound up with each of us covered in paint, we all headed home for bath time. Okay, that’s missing two very important points. First, ’using us as art supplies’ also meant letting them have us help touch up the paint in their rooms. A couple wanted one or more of us to press our image onto their walls. Ria had each of us put a handprint on the outside of her door. Funniest moment of the day came when Siobhan asked about the door I’d shown her and the kids all dragged her out of the bedroom onto the balcony, then closed the door. Which would have been way less problematic had it not been snowing outside, or had Siobhan been wearing anything other than paint.

So when we got home the kids insisted that Siobhan needed to be first in the bathtub. Then insisted that she stay there, sitting covered to the neck in warm water. I mean, seriously, it was a special kind of hilarious watching little Daya standing next to the tub, which she can barely see over, making sure Siobhan’s shoulders didn’t hit air. Of course, that made for a little bit of crowding once we finished washing the kids, because first I had to go through the tub, or I would have gotten red paint all over everything, and then she had to stay there while the rest of the women trooped through the bath. The kids insisted, taking turns watching her until Saffron got a bright idea.

”Children, Siobhan needs to eat. I’m sure if you bundle her up she’ll stay warm enough, but can you all help Marie with that, then escort her down to dinner?” Poor Siobhan never stood a chance, our little miscreants swarmed her and practically carried her to Marie, who bundled her up in like two layers of cloaks over her regular robes, then absconded with her chanting ’dinner’.

After that the rest of the women went through pretty quick; everybody was hungry after a long day of work. Finally, when it got down to just the three of us, Saffron looked at Marie, pointed at the tub in front of her, and said, ”Marie?”

So cute watching Marie pout. ”Seriously, Murder Mittens, we gotta get that paint off you. It could wind up hurting your skin.”

She opened her mouth, and Saffron said, ”no, Lovely Maenad, Sparagmos is not a solution for cleaning paint out of your fur.”

”Works.” she pouted.

”C’mon, Mittens. I’ll hold you the whole time. And once we’re done, I’ll towel you completely dry.” She wavered, so I added, ”and brush you.”

Marie walked over to me, had me strip off her now paint coated Maid uniform, then walked hand and hand with me to the tub. I stepped in and sat down, then Marie followed me, standing between us. The tub was big, but nowhere near big enough for Marie to stretch out. Saffron huffed, then said, ”this won’t do at all.” I felt something tug deep inside me, and Marie shrank down to just about David sized. She got the world’s biggest booger look, opened her mouth, and said, ”Undignified.”

So Saffron grinned and hugged her. Then nodded at me, and I came in behind and squooshed her as well. ”Still worried about your dignity, Mittens?”

”Maybe.” Impressive that I could still make that out with her buried under at least twenty pounds of fat.

I leaned back and pulled her away, turning her around so Saffron could get to work on her hair. ”We’ll put you back before I brush you, okay?”

”Towel?”

I shrugged. ”Before or after toweling?”

”After.”

I finally understood what my hindbrain had been telling me when Marie got wet enough, now that I’d kept up a very strict regimen of flour every hour, on the hour, and not only did her fur clump up in absolutely grotesque ways, it went almost transparent close to her skin, and her skin itself under the fur was translucent. Made my brain kinda slide sideways into a wall when I realized that I half wanted to steal her away to the Bed’s room just like that. But that could have been getting to fondle her in the bath tub, too.

Which is how Karen found us with a creepy looking wet Murder Mittens between us, dangling in my arms half asleep from the warm water and Saffron’s determined scrubbing. ”Imperator.”

Saffron didn’t even slow down her scrubbing. My Kitten’s just cool like that. ”Report.”

”The Alliance scout ships near Norfolk spotted the Fae ships swinging wide around Norfolk at dusk.”

Saffron hummed as she poured another kettle of clean water over Marie, rinsing yet more white paint off of her. ”They’re late.”

Karen nodded. ”There have been storms off the coast. The Fae ships can’t sail as close to the wind as ours.”

Saffron chuckled. ”Been listening to Admiral Pesce?” Karen nodded, blushing just the tiniest bit. ”Good Girl. Always listen to experts if they’re available. Even if you are one. None of us are perfect. How long does he estimate they’ll take to get to Rich Man’s Port?”

”Two days, minimum.” At Saffron’s raised eyebrow, she explained, ”It’s snowing down there presently. Along with poor winds, their ships are narrow, with deep drafts. Pretty, but not good for riverine work. They need to slow to avoid running aground,”

”Question?” They looked at me as Saffron scrubbed Murder Mittens’ murder mittens. ”Can’t they just magic the weather away or something?”

Saffron shrugged. ”It’s possible, but if they do that, their Mages will arrive at Rich Man’s Port exhausted. Or weakened, at any rate. If they’re that impatiently stupid, I’ll take it as a favor. But... you’re right.” She turned back to Karen. ”We’ll be along to help as soon as we can, but I need you to immediately alert the Dragonslayers, Tabitha’s Troll Legion, Marshall duBois, Hero Potami, and the ready Heroes at the Grand Council building. The five of us will be transporting them to the Questing Tentacle tomorrow. Have Admiral Pesce break out the Cold Iron ammunition.” She turned to me. ”I’m sorry, love. I’m afraid your vacation is coming to an end.”

I still took the time to towel my Murder Mittens dry, then brush her fur out. The moment I had that finished to her satisfaction she stood, then towered over everybody else in the room as she did that quick change trick to put that black dress with the elevator boots on. Saffron wore the same, and a moment later Siobhan arrived in her white robes, then switched over to the black dress. Saffron looked at me and said, ”this?” My black slacks, red jacket outfit covered me. ”Or this?” My uniform disappeared, replaced by my gownless evening strap, complete with high heeled thigh boots, but no underwear. I thought about it for a second, and came to the oddest conclusion. ”I think this.”

The three of them smiled at me, then we all huddled up for a hug. When Karen arrived a few moments later in her uniform, she blinked, then had the stripperific wedding dress on. A moment after that we pulled her into the hug. After a while that was both oddly long and way too short, Saffron sighed. ”Ladies, let’s be about it. I’ll bring the ready Heroes. Karen, you bring Hero Potami and the Marshall. Siobhan, please stay with the Questing Tentacle, ready to Translocate to Tallulah’s throne room the moment you see any of those Europan Fae ships, and warn her that her visitors have arrived.”

”What do they look like? I... don’t know ships. I’m sorry.”

Saffron nodded. ”Not your fault. Should you see new ships come in and Admiral Pesce isn’t available, send images of them to Tabitha or I. I think both of us can identify them.”

”I can as well,” said Karen. When Saffron looked at her, she shrugged. ”I hopped over to the recon ship and took a look for myself.”

Saffron rolled her eyes. ”Some creatures, especially those associated with the Undead like Hole Spawn, and I think Bane-Sidhe may qualify, can detect Translocation and Co-Location.” Karen winced. ”Again, you didn’t know. It’s always little things like this that trip us up.” She paused, then shook her head. ”Marie, can you please bring the Dragonslayers?”

”Yes.”

”Excellent. Tabitha, you’ll be bringing the Trolls. They’re currently in and around the Black Dragon. Also, tell Admiral Swanson what’s going on. You’ll find him in the Admiral’s quarters or on the bridge, I think.”

”You got it, Kitten.”

She smiled, then pulled us all together for one more squeeze. ”It is my fervent hope, for all our sakes, that these Fae will see reason, that we can find a diplomatic solution. But if they do not? They will learn what it means to cross the Alliance. And they will rue that education most keenly.”