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The same event as covered before in another prompt here. This time for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
charloft and from a different POV.
March 13, 2029
“Yeah?” He was shouting into the phone, she could hear the chaos of crowds in the background—each with their own distinct set of sounds. There were the fans screaming his name, someone offered a shrill “I love you, Rory!” and he chuckled. The cat calls from photographers to get him to turn this way or that for a picture. Sascha complaining that he never put that damned phone down.
Pippa laughed as she tried to grab for the toddler running circles around her while screeching at the top of his little lungs. “Hey, baby…Marcus Alexander you stop that now, thank you. Hi, I just wanted to let you know we’re running late—as usual. Someone had to take another bath after an incident with the dog food. I guess we’ll meet you inside?”
Pippa didn’t wait for a response. She knew her husband had heard her and that’s all she needed. All right, not all, she still needed to find her left shoe. And the child, to where did he disappear? “Marcus? Marcus?”
A giggle came from under the bed. Pippa sighed in exasperation and then laughed as she stooped down to grab a sneaker-clad foot, pulling her son out from beneath the furniture. “Silly boy, we’re late. Da’s waiting for us.”
Large brown eyes, púca eyes like his father’s, lit up and Marcus MacEibhir grinned. Da. The most magic word in the three year old’s vocabulary. “Where’s at?”
“Help me find my shoe and then we’ll go see…” Pippa coaxed, her voice full of hushed excitement that was guaranteed to garner the child’s cooperation.
( Read more )
charloft and from a different POV.March 13, 2029
“Yeah?” He was shouting into the phone, she could hear the chaos of crowds in the background—each with their own distinct set of sounds. There were the fans screaming his name, someone offered a shrill “I love you, Rory!” and he chuckled. The cat calls from photographers to get him to turn this way or that for a picture. Sascha complaining that he never put that damned phone down.
Pippa laughed as she tried to grab for the toddler running circles around her while screeching at the top of his little lungs. “Hey, baby…Marcus Alexander you stop that now, thank you. Hi, I just wanted to let you know we’re running late—as usual. Someone had to take another bath after an incident with the dog food. I guess we’ll meet you inside?”
Pippa didn’t wait for a response. She knew her husband had heard her and that’s all she needed. All right, not all, she still needed to find her left shoe. And the child, to where did he disappear? “Marcus? Marcus?”
A giggle came from under the bed. Pippa sighed in exasperation and then laughed as she stooped down to grab a sneaker-clad foot, pulling her son out from beneath the furniture. “Silly boy, we’re late. Da’s waiting for us.”
Large brown eyes, púca eyes like his father’s, lit up and Marcus MacEibhir grinned. Da. The most magic word in the three year old’s vocabulary. “Where’s at?”
“Help me find my shoe and then we’ll go see…” Pippa coaxed, her voice full of hushed excitement that was guaranteed to garner the child’s cooperation.
( Read more )
