darker_london | Awwww (Peter, Lydia)

"You know I think you're cool, right?"

Peter looked up from his sandwich-making endevour to see his daughter Lydia peering into the kitchen at him. She looked slightly downcast and Peter immediately forgotten that two minutes ago, eating the sandwich he had been preparing had seemed like the most important thing in the entire world. "What was that?"

Lydia stepped into the kitchen and she moved to lean on the kitchen bench. As she tilted forward, her long hair slipped over her shoulders, pooling onto the bench like a golden waterfall. She was just three weeks shy of fifteen, and sometimes Peter had a hard time reconcoling the beautiful and poised young woman in front of him with the little girl who had once dressed in party dresses and begged him to play tea party. Lydia never asked him to play tea party any more, and as much as he would never really admit it, he missed that. That didn't mean he didn't find the young woman in front of him any less extraordinary. And when she looked sad, like she did now, he wanted to fix it.

"I saw your post and I got worried because you might think I don't think you're cool but you are cool and I think that..."

Peter grinned while Lydia rambled on and when she stopped and gave him a slightly desperate look, Peter stepped in. "Do you mean you don't want me to think you are under the impression that I am lame and old?"

"Yeah," Lydia nodded. "Because like...no one else's dad has saved the world that I know of? And you do all these awesome things... But I can't tell Kismet about that because if I tell Kismet, the world will know in all of thirty seconds. Or she'll be carted off to the looney bin in fifteen. And so I just kind of...can't say anything. So you have to be the nice guy with weird hair and strange taste in music..."

Peter smiled and he moved to kiss Lydia's head. "I know, Lydia. And I think I like being nice dad with weird hair who happens to have immaculate taste in music, I think you'll find," Peter corrected her with an amused look. "Dream Theater can play the pants off of Mortiis any day. Er...that sounded wrong. You know what I mean. I'd rather be that guy than saves-the-world guy."

Lydia leaned against her father, a happy smile gracing her lips. "That's what's cool about you. You do these crazy awesome things, and you'd still rather be at home reading to us or talking about silly things..."

"...playing tea party," Peter said with a laugh. Lydia turned and she gave him a significant and nostalgic look.

"Exactly. I wish I could tell people how awesome my dad is..."

"It doesn't matter to me what you say to anyone else. I know how you feel. And I like that television's Kismet Vinter a lot. She can think I'm weird 'how's it goin' kids' dad. She's fun!"

Lydia laughed and she hugged Peter even though she was standing beside him. "You guys are quite funny together."

"Thanks! And Lydia? I think you're pretty darn cool too."

"I don't think any of your kids could ever believe you think differently, Dad." Lydia bumped him with her hip and then she glanced backwards to where he had been fixing his sandwich. "Weren't you making lunch?"

"Oh balls!" Peter turned to his half-made sandwich and then he moved to try to make it a full sandwich. "I forgot."

"That's why you weight all of eight kilos. Honestly. It's four in the afternoon."

"You and your mother," Peter said with a laugh. "Want one?"

"Actually yeah!" Lydia grinned and she trotted over to stand beside him. "Triple decker!"

"So demanding," Peter said with a shake of his head, but he made her a sandwich as she asked, and he made it a quadruple decker simply because he could.