Numbers

Date/Timing: 17 February 2016
Setting: Griet & Pietr's home; Koffiefontein, FS, South Africa
.
Griet turns down the flame under the soup and checks the clock.
Thirty past six.
“Pappa's working late tonight, yea?”
In her pouch, Elize squirms against Griet's chest.
She forces herself to relax and settles at the kitchen table. “You hungry, Princess?”
Elize chirps, drools extravagantly.
“We'll just have to fix that now, won't we?” She unbuttons her shirt, adjusts her bra, guides Elize into place.
Elize grunts, latches on.
Griet winces, shifts Elize. “Easy, sweetie; no need to rush. There's plenty.”
Elize keeps eating greedily.
Griet strokes fuzzy blonde hair, sighs fondly. “You're a little Snorlax like your pappa.”
Her mobile chimes.
“Speak of the dandelion ....” Works the mobile.
p_a_vos: <3!
p_a_vos: Sry!
honeyBEE: <3!
p_a_vos: Home soon!
honeyBEE: K!
honeyBEE: We'll have dinner redy!
p_a_vos: ^u^
p_a_vos: Sry so l8!
honeyBEE: It's okay!
honeyBEE: <3!
p_a_vos: <3333
“Pappa will be here soon!”
Elize grunts.
“I /totally agree.”
Elize is dozing and Griet reading a library book when Pietr plods in at five before seven. He stops just inside the door, pulls off his boots and socks, then shuffles over, kisses Elize's forehead, pecks Griet's cheek.
::What—?::
But Pietr's not looking; he's fishing in his pocket. When he lifts his face, he smiles weakly and presses a handful of crumpled bills into her hand.
Ninety-five rand.
::Is that enough?:: His eyes glimmer with hope.
Griet bites her lip, straightens the paper.
Pietr deflates. ::How much more?::
She sets the money aside to add to the coffee can later. ::Four-hundred-twenty more.::
He slumps into a chair, takes a deep breath. ::Does that include saving for the insurance?::
She shakes her head. ::Forty-five for our mobiles. The rest for our debt.::
Pietr pulls himself up. ::Maarten may have something for me day after tomorrow.:: Gestures shrink. ::I'll find enough for the mobiles, at least.:: Swallows. ::My parents'll understand if we pay late again.::
::They don't hold it against you.::
Pietr sighs.
::Let's get you cleaned and fed.:: Offers a hand up. ::Then you can take your turn with Princess.::
He smiles back, takes her hand, lets her lead him to the washroom.
She soaps up a washcloth, passes it over.
Pietr scrubs his face clean.
::You're all nipped up. What did you do today?::
Rinses the cloth, drapes it over the sink's edge. ::Pappa and I unstuck and sharpened the blades on Old Fourie's hay mower. Awful mess.::
::Good thing you have your shots.::
He snorts, flicks soapy water—
Griet shields Elize.
Pietr flutters.
She laughs, splashes him with a double-handful.
He pouts, drips on the tile.
::You needed the bath.::
Wrinkles his nose. ::Thanks?::
She smacks him playfully on the arm. ::You finish washing up. I'll get you something clean.::
He frowns at all the cuts on his arms and hands. ::I should probably shower.::
::You probably should.:: Griet kisses him, heads to their closet.
The shower starts.
Around-the-house clothes tucked under her arm, she returns to the washroom, sets them on the back of the toilet, admires Pietr's silhouette through the curtain for a moment, then scoops up the washcloth and his dirty work clothes folded on top. They go immediately into the washing machine, and she's off to the kitchen.
She washes her hands, then serves two bowls of soup and sets them and some rolls on the table.
Pietr emerges squeaky-clean. He kisses her cheek ::Smells great.:: Reaches for Elize.
Griet crouches. 
Pietr lifts Elize and her sling over Griet's head and drapes it around his own shoulders. He tucks their Princess close and absolutely glows.
Griet pulls out a chair—Pietr eases himself down—claims the one across the table.
::Your aunt—::
::Which one?::
::—Kabibe—brought the rolls by.::
Pietr frowns at the plate.
::They're not poisoned.::
::They're pity rolls.:: Takes one with a sigh, pokes it with the buttered knife.
Pokes him. ::You'd do the same for her family.::
::Rather be the one giving.:: Takes a bite.
She swirls the vegetables in her soup.
They eat without conversation.
Griet sets her spoon in her empty bowl. ::I'm at the shop all day tomorrow, so you and Princess will need to keep yourselves out of trouble.:: Grins. ::I'll set aside some lunch for her, but you're on your own.::
Pietr huffs. ::I'll be at Niko's. Marje said she'd feed me if I distract Wil while she's sick.::
Griet scrunches her nose. ::Morning sickness is the /worst.::
.::So you said. A /lot::
She sticks out her tongue.
He responds in kind.
She laughs. ::Your turn for dishes.::
Pietr heaves an exaggerated sigh, gathers up the flatware and bowls, kisses Griet's crown on his way to the sink.
Griet adds the cash to the coffee can atop the fridge, heads to the laundry room and starts the washer, then wanders into the front room with her book, listens to Pietr rattle about the kitchen and the swish of the broom as he tidies up.
::Cards or reading?:: she asks as he steps into the room.
::Too tired for cards.:: Grabs a book from the side table, curls himself next to her on the sofa.
::Too tired for Pokémon? Are you sick?::
'Funny,' says his eyebrow as he rests the book on his lap. ::Tired of getting my a—::
Griet pokes his nose.
.::—butt kicked, maybe.:: Nudges her with a elbow. ::Still think you cheated last time.::
Nudges him back. ::I kicked your butt fair and square and you know it.:: Crosses her arms, eyes twinkling.
Lowers his eyebrows. ::See if I ever lend you Chandelure again.::
::Such a sore loser!::
He sniffs. ::Serious business.::
Rolls her eyes, kisses him. ::Read your book.::
Huffs, opens to the marked page.
Thirty pages later, he's oozed his head into her lap and hooked his knees over the couch's arm.
Elize sleeps on.
Twenty more pages and Pietr joins her.
Griet finishes her chapter, then pokes his nose.
Pietr snorts awake, blinks rapidly in the light, smiles sheepishly. Eases himself upright. ::Bedtime, yea?::
.::Princess first.::
'Of course,' nods Pietr, standing as smoothly as he can.
She trails him to their bedroom.
He stops next to the dresser.
Griet scoops Elize from the pouch, cradles her head, lays her on the changing blanket.
Elize wiggles, makes a cranky sound.
“Diaper time~!” Unsnaps the onesie (orange with tiny robots, a hand-me-down from Wil), eases Elize free.
Elize flails.
“Just a moment, Princess.” Unsnaps the diaper. “Just in time, yea?” Takes hold of tiny ankles, lifts a tiny bottom clear.
Elize coos.
Pietr trades a wipe for the damp diaper.
“A clean bum for you~!” A quick swipe. “All clean~!”
Pietr trades the wipe for powder.
“Poof!”
Elize giggles.
Pietr trades powder for a clean diaper.
Griet folds it up around Elize, blows a raspberry against her bare tummy.
Elize squeals.
Pietr offers a fresh onesie—green with dancing frogs (passed on from Lene).
“Your arms go here—” Threads her right through the proper sleeve. “—and here—” Left. “—and your feet go here—” Right. “—and here!” Left. “Yay! You're all dressed for bed!”
Elize yawns enormously.
“Almost done~.”
Griet settles Elize in her crib, tucks her under a light blanket, kisses her forehead.
Pietr pads back from the baby hamper, smooches Princess' head.
She snuffles.
He strokes her cheek.
She yawns again, eyes sliding shut.
He glows at her.
Griet smiles, tugs his sleeve.
Pietr sighs, tiptoes to the door, turns out the light. Halfway to the washroom, he stops, turns, grins mischievously, steps—
::Don't you—!::
Scoops her up, cradles her to his chest, nuzzling her neck as he crosses the house.
She giggles, squirms until he puts her down, and dusts herself off with an indignant frown.
He pouts, bats his eyelashes.
Griet makes a show of being exasperated, huffs, then puts her arms around his neck and kisses him thoroughly.
Pietr smiles back against her mouth and then he yawns.
Griet pulls away, tilts her head towards the washroom.
He sighs, plods in.
Griet ducks into the laundry room, clips Pietr's work clothes to the line to dry overnight, goes back to their bedroom for their pyjamas (baggy t-shirts and flannel pants for both of them); she changes there, gathers Pietr's and returns to the washroom just as he finishes.
Pietr changes as she brushes her own teeth and gives her face one last splash, and the both of them head to bed, climb in, and fight for a moment over the blankets (she lets him win).
They end up pressed together, back-to-back.
Griet relaxes.
Pietr shifts restlessly.
She turns over, gathers him to her chest, and strokes his hair until he quiets and falls asleep. She follows shortly thereafter.
She wakes deep in the night.
Pietr's side of the bed is empty.
She pulls her housecoat and his jacket from the wardrobe, turns on the baby monitor, tucks the speaker in her pocket, heads outside.
Pietr sits on the courtyard wall, looking up at the stars and swinging his feet.
She settles the coat on his shoulders—
He startles, nearly tips off into the street.
—scrambles up beside him.
Pietr grins, hoists her all the way up.
She leans into him, head resting on his shoulder, hums.
He leans back against her, lays his head on hers.
They sigh together and burst into giggles.
Category:Ficlets with images
Category:Koffiefontein (setting)
Category:Forging of a Skeleton Key storyline
Category:Griet
Category:Griet's POV
Category:Griet (ficlet)
Category:Elize
Category:Elize (ficlet)
Category:Pietr
Category:Pietr (ficlet)
Category:Conversations via SMS
Category:Pokemon (reference)
Category:Maarten (mention)
Category:Val (mention)
Category:Kabibe (mention)
Category:Nikolaas (mention)
Category:Marjolein (mention)
Category:Wil (mention)
Category:Lene (mention)