darker_london | Shapes (Flynn, James, Thomas)

"A rhinoceros!" James' little four-year-old face lit up with delight and he pointed a pudgy finger skyward, causing a dollop of caramel to fall on his Godfather's jeans.

Flynn laughed and he gazed up at the cloud James had indicated, not caring in the least that his jeans were now caramelised. "I don't see a rhino, I see a bunny." The stone of his balcony's floor scratched against his shoulder blades, but he was able to ignore it, glad for the thin t-shirt between him and them. "You see a large, trampling animal and I see a bunny. What do you suppose that says about me, hmm?"

"You're a magician?" James said with a raised eyebrow. He reached for another caramel apple and he fortunately missed the look of contempt on Flynn's face. Bloody, shirty, Deirdre-stealing magician Giles. Flynn certainly did not think he was one of them, dammit. Of course, that was not what James had been saying.

"I think it speaks more of the fact that I like small, furry things."

"Like Errol!" James grinned and he cuddled close to Flynn's side. Errol was Flynn's cat, and Flynn did rather have a mother-hen complex about the tiny animal. He treated it as if it was his child.

"Like Errol." Flynn loved spending time with his Godson. James was an angel, which meant that he was quite advanced for his age. At nearly four, his reasoning skills were without equal and he could carry his side of an incredibly complex conversation. He was still a kid, however, and James revered Flynn; a responsibility Flynn didn't take lightly. "Are the apples enough, James? I can make a sandwich?"

"No. I like apples. OOOH! LOOK!" James pointed upwards again. "Jam factory!"

Flynn laughed loudly and he studied the cloudy shape, which did sort of resemble a factory, complete with a wispy cloud that looked like smoky output. Where the jam had come from would remain a mystery. "I see it!"

"And there's a bull," James changed his eyeline, veering left to a pointy cloud nearer the horizon. "An angry bull."

"I once knew a quite stroppy cow," Flynn mused. "She lived in this field near where I lived and she used to moo quite loudly when I would walk by. Sometimes, if she was feeling quite bold, she would try to bite me..."

"Maybe you smelled like a farmer?" James suggested, and he polished off the caramel apple with relish.

The door opened behind them, and James and Flynn sat up in unison to see who was coming to join them. Flynn smiled when he caught sight of Thomas, James' father, and he was pleased to see the man smile in return. Thomas' spirits had been down lately, but he seemed to be doing better. "Hi, Thomas! We're cloud-watching."

"Daddy!" James reached out and Thomas scooped James into his arms for a kiss.

"Hello you two!" Thomas did kiss James and then he studied him closely. "My goodness, you're sticky!"

"Flynny made me caramel apples," James grinned. "And I saw a bull in the clouds! Look!" James pointed and Thomas turned to look. "What do you see, Daddy?"

There was a pause, and then Thomas said flatly, "a bull. I see a bull." He turned to Flynn and he frowned slightly. "Little Daddy is just inside with Quinn. You want to go find him?"

"Okay!" Thomas let James down and immediately the little boy darted inside to find Spectre and Quinn.

Flynn rose from his spot on the roof and he pulled out his cigarettes. Now that James had gone inside, he could smoke. He lit his cigarette and then he turned to Thomas. "What did you really see in the clouds, Thomas?"

Thomas sighed and he hung his head slightly, leaning back against the wall. "Torture implement. Templar."

That was pretty much what Flynn had expected, and he clicked his tongue. "Sorry."

"Not your fault. Just didn't want to ruin James' game. Thanks for watching him, Flynn. We've been house hunting."

"Any luck?"

"Not a bit. But we'll carry on. Can you watch him again tomorrow?"

"Sure thing, Thomas. I'd be happy to. We're composing songs together."

Thomas grinned and he patted Flynn on the back. "Good stuff, Flynn. See you then."

Flynn watched Thomas go sadly, and then he turned back out to the city. He watched it calmly as he finished his cigarette. The world could be a shitty place sometimes, but in between those times there were caramel apples and godsons who saw jam factories in the sky.