stock: typewriter

fic:the little things/btvs,walking dead/gen

Title: the little things
Series: We Find Ourselves
Word Count: 1015
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Walking Dead
Prompt: #374 before the war @ tamingthemuse
Warning: none
Rating: FR13
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related characters are copyright of Joss Whedon and ME. The Walking Dead and all related characters are copyright of Robert Kirkman, Image Comics and AMC. No infringement intended.
Note: This story takes place the night they reach Blount; so right after the short ‘civilian’.

Series Synopsis: Hank Summers is dealing with a dateable teenager daughter and the added stress of a zombie apocalypse. Hopefully he survives. Both.





The March Hare had just declared for the others to have some wine when Hank Summers felt his daughter’s head drop against his shoulder. He smiled and bookmarked the section so they could start the next night with the ‘a mad tea party’ before placing ‘Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland’ down beside his now cold cup of hot chocolate. Her first skiing lessons had taken more out of the seven year old than she or he, if Hank was being honest, had anticipated.

He leaned back on the sofa and welcomed the full weight of his daughter. She remained fast asleep as she curled into his side and he arranged the blanket around her tiny frame. Hank caught Joyce’s smile out of the corner of his eye and returned it with a wink. He’d brought their small family up to Lake Tahoe for Buffy’s winter break and while their daughter had at first been worried of Santa’s inability to find her Joyce had quickly solved that issue with the brilliant idea to leave Santa a note.

Buffy had been thrilled with prospect of getting to write to Santa a second time and, Hank had noticed, she’d taken the opportunity to add three more items to her Christmas list. Three things Hank was certain Joyce had picked up during her alone time earlier that day since he’d seen her bring the ‘Santa’ wrapping paper. Joyce marked the place in her own book and Hank smiled when she settled on his other side. He rearranged the blanket and they shared laugh when her feet got tangled.

Her knee connected soundly with his thigh and they both stilled, well, after Hank was done wincing he stilled. He turned and Joyce leaned forward so they both could be assured that Buffy was still asleep beside him. He heard Joyce’s sigh of relief and then the blanket fluffed up before settling more comfortably around them. Joyce’s head found its way onto his shoulder and she let him take on her full weight as she relaxed into him.

Hank pressed his cheek to the soft waves of her hair and listened to Buffy’s easy breathing as they watched the fire. The villa he’d rented wasn’t pricey enough to afford them a view of the mountains, but they had splurged enough for them to have a fireplace. One they’d spent the better part of each evening beside and Hank was almost certain the television near it hadn’t been turned on once during the vacation thus far.

Joyce had insisted on having one though so they could keep the up the family tradition of watching the Macy’s Day Parade after Buffy opened her presents and while Joyce made breakfast. Hank hadn’t seen the point in arguing. It be fair he’d always had a soft spot for Snoopy and enjoyed always it when Buffy pointed out that particular float to him. A snuffle that quickly turned into light snoring escaped the little one beside him and Hank felt’s Joyce’s smile against his shoulder.

He didn’t bother to suppress his chuckle since the snoring meant noises didn’t bother her nearly as much and Joyce’s snickering quickly joined his. His smile stretched wider and Hank tensed before stating, “She gets that from you.”

Joyce’s hard snort sounded as if it hurt and she lifted her head to prop her chin on his shoulder. Hank kept facing forward, pretending to gaze at the fire, but caught sight of Joyce’s mock-glare out of the corner of his eye. He felt her move before a slim finger poked him squarely in his sweet spot. He clenched his jaw to quiet the nervous giggle that escaped him. “And she gets her ticklishness from you.”

“That she does,” Hank muttered with a smile.

“What, Dad?”

Hank frowned at the fire in front of him and he blinked away the sudden watering of his gaze. The comfortable sofa was gone and had been replaced by hard ground, but the warmth at his side was familiar. Hank came back to the present with a sigh and a sad smile as turned his head to look down at his daughter. Buffy nestled beside him, despite the warmth of the fire and just how damn hot it was, and was looking up at him with her chin propped on his arm.

The smile she offered him reminded him startling of Joyce and it twisted something in his chest, but he pushed it aside to offer his daughter something else of Joyce to hold onto as he asked, “Did you know that you get your snoring from your mother?”

Grayson’s quiet laughter brought a blush to his daughter’s cheeks and she sputtered as she pulled away from him. “D-dad!”

Hank looked over the fire to their traveling companions and saw Emma fast asleep in Grayson’s arms which explained why his laughter hadn’t been louder and Buffy’s annoyed voice was more whisper than shout as she countered, “I do not snore!”

“Yes,” Grayson sing-songed, “You do.”

Buffy’s blush deepened and a slight frown tugged at his brows as Hank realized, belatedly, that his daughter seemed to find Grayson’s opinion a little too important as of late. He glanced at back at the younger man and found him still smiling at them—most likely none the wiser.

Hank choose, at least for the night, to ignore that small epiphany and instead focus on his reason for embarrassing his daughter in the first place. “Want to know why I know this?”

Those green eyes narrowed before she settled against him once more and Hank caught the inclining of Grayson’s head as he asked another question. “Remember the year we went to Lake Tahoe for Christmas?”

Her head nodded against his shoulder and she muttered, “I got new ice skates that year.”

He smiled—that had been one of her three additions to Santa—and continued, “One night after we finished reading—”
“You finished,” she corrected.

“After I finished reading to you,” Hank agreed and caught the softening of Grayson’s smile, “And you fell asleep…”




The end.
This is the Hank that overcompensated with copious amounts of footwear when his daughter was depressed after the Master's attack in the season two premier. ;) Thank you for reading!
Sometimes even I need a break from all the drama and death. :) I'm glad you liked it as well.
*sniffles* Love the flashback to simpler, happier times. I love seeing how happy Hank and Joyce were in the beginning, cause you know they had to have been that way once. Of course, it makes their fall all the more bittersweet.

And I love Hank being irritated at Buffy's relationship with Grayson, it such a dad thing and I love how you've shown how good of a father he could have been. :)
They seemed to get along during their actual itneractions on screen and while the origin comics tend to paint Hank in a bad light they also explore the fact that Buffy was indeed a Daddy's Girl. It's sweet and terribly sad so I'm doing my best to allow Hank to shine in a believable way.

The Grayson friendship is being expored from all angles. I'm not entirely certain what he's in the story for yet, but he just keeps weasling his way into stories on me. :)