[AN: Oooh, there are so many headcannons flying around about Ango’s parents. I’m going with abuse-by-micromanagement]

“Fold your fingertips under and push with your knuckles,” instructed Lup, who couldn’t coach Angus by physically moving him around.

“Tip of the knife against the chopping board,” reminded Taako. He held his hands behind his back so that he wouldn’t spook Angus by absently touching him. It had taken less than a day for Taako to realise that Angus didn’t like being physically manipulated and adjust his teaching style accordingly. “Just slice and move the zucchini. Slice and move.” He created an illusion of tiny hands doing the motions with the help of Prestidigitation, so Angus could see.

Angus, tongue stuck out of his mouth because he did that when he was having difficulty with a task, focussed so intensely on doing what he was shown that he never saw the two figures rapidly approaching the open-air kitchen that the trio were using for cooking lessons.

He didn’t see them until one yelled, “Angus Fortitude McDonald!”

Angus nearly sliced his knuckles off. He dropped the knife and backed away from his work in progress. “I was only learning,” he said.

“Honestly, this is how you show your gratitude?” chided his mother.

“We give you a place in the best academy in Faerun, and the first thing you do is run away to play detective?” said his father.

“We set you up for a lifetime career. The best career,” said his mother. “Theoretical multiplanar rune research. And this is how you repay us.”

“Uh,” said Magnus Burnsides, bringing in lumber for the fires. “Who are you guys?”

“And you’re associating with ruffians,” sniffed his mother.

“We are going to have a long talk about why you thought it was appropriate to interfere with our memories, young man,” said his father. Which meant that his parents were going to talk and he would have to stand still and listen and answer only when asked to answer, but otherwise stay there and take the haranguing. “Do you even remember any of your manners? Or did you wipe those out through the voidfish as well.”

“Excuse me, but his name is Fisher,” said Magnus. “And the baby is called Junior.”

Angus cleared his throat and ran himself through the mental exercises he did to keep a calm and steady voice even when he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. “Mister August McDonald, Missus Abigail McDonald… it is my pleasure to introduce Lup and Taako, from Tre Llew-Ddion, Magnus Burnsides…” he cleared his throat again because his voice cracked, “late of Ravensroost, and Merle Highchurch,” who was napping in a nearby hammock. “The three men are the team from the Bureau of Balance known as Tres Horny Boys. The lady is… Taako’s twin sister. Everyone? These… are my…” his voice died on the word ‘parents’. He couldn’t say it.

“Ee-NUN-see-ate,” scolded his father.

“Project,” declared his mother. “We gave you elocution classes, at least pretend our money was well spent.”

Merle started awake, peered at the parents, and said, “Who are these assholes?”

“Honestly, the company you’ve fallen into,” tutted his father.

By now, all he could see was his own shoes and a haze of unshed tears. They were going to take him away. They were going to take him away from everything and everyone that he loved and shut him up in the kind of boarding school that was the next best thing to a prison and a poorhouse combined and claim they were doing his best for him.

“Stand up straight,” chided his father.

“Boys don’t cry,” snapped his mother.

“Do I incinerate them now, or wait ‘till later?” said Lup.

Angus peeked towards Taako, who was fidgeting with his KrEbStAr with a speculative look in his eye. Taako caught Angus looking. “Made ‘em forget you, huh?”

Angus nodded. “…’essir…”

“I can see why.”

Magnus put himself between Angus and his parents. He never did like to see any living creature bullied. “Step. Off. Give the kid some air.”

“You think you can intimidate us?” said his father.

“We’re his rightful parents,” said his mother. “If you don’t give him to us, we can get the law involved.”

“We’re the ones who love him,” said his father.

Taako, looking as smug as a cat in a canary farm, said, “Prove it.” The smirk grew smugger. “Not with what you’ve given him, but with what you know about him.”

They set it up so that it could be fair. A kind of quiz show contest officiated by Lucretia with Taako and Magnus on one side and Mr and Mrs McDonald on the other.

Each question was judged by Angus, sitting under Merle’s Zone of Truth. Points arranged on a big board by Carey and Killian.

“Question one,” said Lucretia. “What is Angus’ favourite activity?”

Mrs McDonald said, “Homework, of course.”

Taako won that one with, “Solving mysteries.”

On it went. Favourite dessert: “None, he doesn’t have dessert.”/ “Bananoffee pie with extra marshmallow fluff and chocolate sprinkles.” Magnus won.

Best friend: “Lord Quisling of Bazilforte.”/ “Mavis Highchurch-Roughridge.” Taako and Magnus answered simultaneously and won.

Favourite rainy day activity: “Studying like a good boy.”/ “Reading those Caleb Cleveland books in a pillow fort with at least two cats and a hot chocolate.” Taako won because he provided both cats and hot chocolate.

Most-loved extracurricular activity: “None, all his activities should be curricular.”/ “Magic lessons with Taako,” answered Taako, while Magnus answered, “Acrobatics lessons with Carey.” They both won a point together.

And finally, the destroying, “What makes Angus happy?” which the contestants had to write down.

His parents wrote, He has yet to learn how to be happy. Taako and Magnus conferred and wrote, The life he chose for himself.

The Bureau of Balance obviously won by a landslide, but Lup had to rub it in. “A zero score. Seems to me you don’t know squat about your own kid.”

“This doesn’t prove anything,” protested his father. “We still have a right to our child.”

“Actually,” said Lucretia. “It proves neglect and abuse. By not knowing anything about your child, you’ve proven neglect. By not seeking out his happiness in any way, by enforcing a state of obvious misery, you’ve proven abuse. We could take it to a court of law, but it’s clear you’d lose and go to prison for your extant crimes. However, if you surrender your rights now, we will consider supervised visits–”

“Like fuck we will,” protested Tres Horny Boys in unison.

Lucretia glared at them. “We will consider supervised visits if you can demonstrate learning how to become decent, loving parents inside of a year. Starting with sensitivity training and child psychology classes. I hear Neverwinter University is running some flash courses for the… especially inept.”

“Burn!” Magnus yawped in glee.

His mother and father were lost for arguments. They looked - for the first time in Angus’ memory - completely lost.

Angus turned to Lup, who, as an actual lich, was not nearly as frightening as his own parents. “What just happened?”

“You’ve been adopted,” she said. “Grats. You have the entire BOB staff plus two liches plus probably one Reaper as your parents. You’re never going to run out of love, kiddo.”

That sounded… that sounded just perfect, come to think of it.

1) Yes

2) It depends on how busy my days are. For instance, I was just about to work on one of my prompts now. I’m trying to stick to one per day so my wrists let me live, though. I have three in my inbox, so… Patience is a virtue.

3) I try not to cover or gloss over NSFW content because I put every prompt fic up in AO3 under the title Tumbl Into TAZ, and I promised that, at most, it would be PG rated. Also, I do not condone nor support paedophilia, so I won’t write that.

As I said in one of them: gruesome, bloody violence is fine, but sex is out.

And now… I pop off to do one of those prompts. Stand by.

[AN: I’m assuming you mean Angus, not their kid]

In retrospect, the IPRE should never have sent along a means by which the crew of the Starblaster could record moving pictures. The extended mission recorded some thousands of moving scrolls, and so very many of them were Taako taking the piss from his fellow crewmembers.

He was imitating Fantasy David Attenborough[1] in this one, camera trained at Lup and Barry having an awkward conversation far down the hall. “The mating habits of the common nerd have yet to be… unravelled. As you can see, both of these nerds are sending clear signals to the other. Both are obviously ready to mate. Tragically, they are also so fucking oblivious to these signals, that mating is not likely to occur.”

“What the–?” said Lup. “Taako what the fuck are you doing?”

There were hundreds of scrolls in a similar theme. All preserved in the Bureau of Benevolence archives. Sorted by mission, seriousness, and coping strategies. There were more than a few vlogs of sole survivors. Teary-eyed and talking to the device as if they were talking to their absent comrades.

Given the sheer volume of Taako’s in-mission shenanigans, it was a really big mistake to gift him with his own Fantasy Video Camera for Candlenights.

He was imitating Fantasy David Attenborough again. Filming Angus arraying his evidence on the Big Table. “We see here the male nerd rearranging a display to attract the attention of his mate. As with all nerds, the display contains a dazzling array of differing information.”

Angus glared at his adopted Papa, rolled his eyes, and got on with his work.

“And here comes the mate, bearing gifts of theobromine in order to stimulate their intellectual pursuits. They will likely talk about the display for hours on end whilst consuming the theobromine.”

Agatha put down the cups and muffins. “Uh… what the hell is he doing?”

“He thinks we’re working too hard, so he’s goofing too hard.” Angus made a gesture with both hands. “Balances things out. Ignore him. He’ll get tired of it eventually.”

“The male has just reassured the female that I am not a threat. Tragically, many nerds have lost their lives from underestimating invaders into their territories.”

“Sir, if you mess up our evidence, you’ll have to tidy it up again.”

“That was a threat display,” said Taako. “Nerds can be dangerous when riled. We are going to resume from a safer, more distant location.”

Agatha giggled. “Is this your dad third-wheeling us?”

“That, or he’s bored and trying to get a rise out of us. It’s hard to tell. Ninety percent of Papa’s motivation is boredom.”

Taako remained in character. “That was a base and accurate truth.” He set up the camera whilst allegedly hiding from his son and his girlfriend. “Let’s watch the interaction as the nerds attempt to impress each other.”

Angus shook his head. “He’s overdue for another adventure,” he said. “This is my evidence. What have you got?”

Agatha dug into her satchel of holding, adding to the array of items.

“Having shown her his, the female shows him hers.”

“Oh. My. Gods…” Agatha whimpered, her dark skin growing darker around her cheeks.

“Don’t be gross,” said Angus, not looking up from the table where two brilliant minds were gathering proof. “We’re making you an adventure, the least you could do is be nice about it.”

Taako shut off the Fantasy Video Camera. “You two kids want some brain food while I wait?”

[1] David Attenborough is definitely a Druid/Ranger with maybe a level or three of Wizard.

Everyone agreed that Agnes had to be the smartest baby in the world. She wasn’t even crawling when she made the connection between sounds and meaning. What she was currently having difficulty with was saying words that other people used. She stubbornly refused to speak anything but her own, personal language, and kept changing her mind about the grammar and lexicon.

Taako, babysitting because both her parents were off on one of their adventures, took her gibberish seriously. Carrying on a conversation using the tone of Agnes’ voice as a guide. He was also gently attempting to get her to say a real word or two.

“Aba ja wawi neh ninananana,” said Agnes. Complaining because she couldn’t climb the couch. 

One of the cats was glaring at her, calculating when would be the best time to saunter away from her statistically sticky grasp.

“That is a steep couch,” Taako agreed, “and a very fluffy kitty. You and I both know that kitties don’t like it when you’ve been sucking on your fingers.” He added the suggestion, “You could climb on Uncle Kravitz,” who had, incidentally, read her Goodnight Moons so many times that he fell asleep.

“Eeeehhhhh…” Agnes whined.

“Yeah, that kitty’s gonna walk away from you and we know it, Aglet.”

The air tore, and Lup re-entered the mortal plane, swearing in Elvish. Her Reaper robes evaporated, and so did the red robes stuck to her lichy form, which she used to terrify the marks. “CUNTS,” was her final epithet before she dove into the pantry and the fantasy refrigerator for ingredients.

She started slamming things around and using all the possible Elven curses and repeating more than a few as she vented.

“Bad day at the office?” Taako asked. “And remember there are children present.”

Lup stopped throwing things around for a minute so she could peek over the back of the couch at Agnes and coo. “Heya pun’kin? How’s my favourite grand-niece? Is you bein’ a good humanman?”

Agnes giggled and jiggled and managed a two millimetre jump that caused the cat to decide that it was too close to Agnes. The cat yawned, stretched, and sauntered up to a higher position on the couch.

“Yeah, you’re havin’ fun now that Aunty Lup’s around.” She switched to Elvish. “These fucking cunts, Koko. The entire job was a moist, dark hole and loaded with syphilis. Absolute cunts. Diseased, stupid, spavined cunts. And they were the fucking worst to take down. Cunts!”

And that was the moment that Agnes decided to echo the most frequent word. “Ekee.”

There was a moment of tense silence.

Agnes jiggled and giggled. “Ekee! Ekee, ekee, ekee, ekee!”

“Great,” Taako singsonged. “The first word that actually sticks is a curse.”

“EKEE!”

“Agnes’ fault for leaving her with us two potty-mouthed nerds.”

“Ekee, ekee… ekee, ekee, ekee…”

“He’s still gonna blame us.”

“What do we do, bro?”

“Conk her out, lie like a rug, and pretend we had nothing to do with this?”

Lup leveled a glare at him. “You are talking about attempting to lie to the world’s greatest detective and the world’s best investigative reporter.”

“I get it. Dumb idea.”

“There’s still the hope that she’ll get bored and pick a new word.”

Lup brightened. “We… could… try to train her?”

Taako also brightened. “Let’s whip up a bunch of Aglet treats and give it a whirl.”

When Angus and Agatha returned to Casa de Taako, they found an interesting scene. One sticky daughter, jam and honey on her face, bracketed by the twins of song and story, each with a basket of gooey treats.

“Ma. Ma,” cooed Taako. “You say ‘ma-ma’.”

“Da da da da da da,” Lup enthused. “Da da da da.”

Angus looked to his wife, who looked back in a way that said, We both know something is up, and that something stinks. Aloud, he said, “Who did what, sir?”

Agnes let the cat out of the bag by saying her first word. “Ekee!’

The twins stood ramrod straight in instants and both pointed the finger of blame at each other.

“This really was inevitable, wasn’t it?” sighed Agatha.

[AN: thanks to this handy link: https://sa.obsidianportal.com/adventure-log/elven-curse-words for the lexicon]

Taako, finally taking his honeymoon, had left Angus with Magnus. This was the sane and sensible thing to do because literally everyone else was busy except Merle. And nobody with any sense in their noggins left kids alone with Merle. He was, without a doubt, the world’s worst babysitter.

Then Magnus had had a dog emergency and, rather than traumatise a six-year-old boy[1] with a lot of big, loud dogs… went to the only port in the metaphorical storm.

Merle.

The good news was that Merle had nothing further planned than a little gardening[2] and beach play with his own kids. The bad news, naturally, was that this was Merle. He had a laissez-faire attitude to child-rearing at the best of times and tended to treat kids like slightly incompetent adults who just needed a few more experience points from the school of hard knocks.

“And if you go near any plants, keep it PG or I swear to Jeffandrew…”

“So… violent and juicy mutilation is in, but sex is out,” said Merle.

“What? No! Don’t do any of that shit. Merle… Pan-damnit… You know Angus is a little… okay, he needs gentleness. Got it?”

“Ah, he needs a little toughening up, right kiddo?”

“Ms Carey and Ms Killian have been teaching me how to defend myself, sirs,” said Angus. “Last time, I tossed Ms Killian five feet.”

Magnus said, “If you make him cry, Taako will literally kill you. If you traumatise him, Taako will literally kill you. If you–”

“I get it, I get it. Relax. We’re all keeping our clothes on. Gimmie the kid. He’ll be fine.”

Magnus had his doubts, but he also had twenty rescued fighting dogs to re-train and pacify. “No adventuring.”

“No adventuring,” sighed Merle.

*

The first thing Angus noticed about Merle’s home was how everything was far more convenient for someone of his height. Well. Apart from bumping into the odd light fixture.

Small wonder that the family chose to gather in Chesney’s, which was more… open plan. Open to the sky, open to the beach air, open enough for a gargantuan to sit and quaff if they so wished…

This place had a different aura. It had the closed-in safe feeling of one of Papa’s cuddle cotes, but the organic coziness of an underground burrow. And yet, thanks to skylights and assorted glowing things, there was plenty of light. No scary shadows to haunt Angus’ active imagination.

And green things literally everywhere. Potted plants. Hanging plants. Plants in sconces. Plants hanging off the walls. If it wasn’t covered in leaves, it was furniture. There was even a carpet of soft moss on the floor.

“It’s like this,” said Merle, “It’s soft, it’s used to getting walked on, and I don’t need to vacuum. It’s win-win.”

Angus got to bunk with Mookie, and set his little suitcase on the empty bed. After that, it was out into the jungle that Merle called a garden.

“Aah, would ya look at that,” he cooed. “The Dreamroot is flowering.”

They looked relatively unattractive. Five upright stalks attached to five small and boring flowers, almost lost in the larger handspan-diameter leaves.

“Dreamroot, sir?”

“It’s a herb. Got me a lot of herbs growing here. This little fella…” he tickled a leaf, coughed, and held his hands behind his back. “Well, it’s used by lots of folks as a sleep aid. Deep sleep, restful dreams… something about Elves, I forget the rest of the mnemonic.” He shrugged. “My stores are low, so you can help me prep this baby for the potion pot.”

The flower smelled… very nice. It made Angus feel happy, so he bent over to sniff it a lot as he helped Merle extract as much of the thick, tuberous root as possible.

“Don’t mind that the thin little hairs snap off, it’s okay. That’s one of the ways that it spreads. Those roots send up new shoots, and they become new Dreamroot plants. It’s all part of the wonders of nature.”

“The PG wonders of nature,” said Angus, who was feeling giggly.

“Yeah. Sure.”

“What does PG stand for?”

Merle didn’t answer that, but got him and Mavis inside for some prep work. The leaves, flowers and stems were all cut off and hung upside-down, but the peel had to come off the root and the rest of it had to be sliced thinly so it could dry properly. Which meant running pieces of it through the mandoline and into a bowl of water.

Angus didn’t feel it when he cut himself. Not even when Mavis washed it, patted it dry, and cast Cure Wounds. He just thought it was so funny.

Mavis said, “Maybe you should go outside to play with Mookie for a while.”

That was a great idea.

He charged outside and tackled Mookie and showed him some moves and splashed around in the water and chased birds and wrestled with Mookie and chased birds and splashed around in the water and ran up and down the beach and around the house and through all the hallways and wrestled with Mookie and made a lot of noise and the drying cupboard smelled so nice and he felt so good about the world and he laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed…

The mnemonic Merle forgot went, Deep sleep, restful dreams, but give to Elves to make them scream.

*

“On the plus side, he’s quiet now.”

“Fuck you, Merle, he’s stoned out of his little gourd. You gave him drugs, Merle.”

“Not intentionally!”

Angus, clutched tight in Taako’s arms, was drooling a little. His body was limp, but his eyes were wide and his pupils were dilated. His ears were pointed straight up and vibrating slightly.

“Meeerrrrrrlllle…” Taako had only caught enough Dreamroot fumes for the time it took to literally drag his son out of the airing cupboard. If he was up to snuff, he would have been a fatal exposure for the Dwarven Cleric. But for now… he was kind’a sloppy. “You don’t- you don’t- you don’t… yoooo do NOT give li’l kids drugs, Merle. ‘S a bad thing. ‘S a ver’ bad thing.”

“Even accidentally, this kind of thing looks bad,” said Kravitz. “And how could you forget a mnemonic? They’re designed to be remembered, Merle!”

Merle had the decency to look embarrassed. “Did a little pipeweed before Magnus came over.”

“MERLE!”

“It’s for my sciatica!”

“Oh gods,” sighed Kravitz. “How the hell am I supposed to get them sober?”

“Krav,” said Taako. “Hey, Krav…”

“They stink of Dreamroot…”

“Hey. Hey. Hey, Krav. Krav. Kravvie…” 

“They’re gonna be stoned all the way home…”

“Kravitz-darling…”

Sigh. “Yes, darling?”

“Our baby smells nice.”

Which was the fifth time that Taako had come to this revelation. “Yes, Dove. He smells so very nice. But we have to get home and wash it off and give him some nicer smells, okay?”

“I’m stoned, aren’t I?”

“Yes, love. You’re very stoned.”

Taako looked stricken. “Are you mad at me, Bone Daddy?”

“No, I’m mad at Merle. He’s far more convenient.”

“Oooohhh… let’s be mad at Merle together,” Taako whispered.

Kravitz enlisted Barry’s help to get them both home, since he was also immune to Dreamroot fumes. Barry took Taako and Kravitz took Angus, both by way of Reaper portals to Casa de Taako. Where both Elf an half-Elf could be decontaminated in relative peace.

Taako’s final words to Merle that day were, “Hey. Fuck you! Strong letter t’ follow.”

They decided to take their next honeymoon with Angus in tow. It was the least amount of trouble that way.

[1] In this AU, Angus is younger. You can safely posit that this follows from the 4YO Angus acknowledging his adoption story. Only this time, he’s half-elven. Same story, different ears, if you will.

[2] Threatened, multiple times, on pain of pain, to keep it PG.

[AN: This took me a while, my life has bit a teensy bit sideways lately]

Ominous chanting, necromantic homunculi, a succubus of all creatures and a really, really stupid offshoot of the Cult of Yug-Rathoth[1]. Could things possibly get worse?

Professor Angus McDonald, one day away from graduating from Boy Genius to just plain Genius, really should have known better than to ask that question. The universe always loved to answer it by demonstrating how, exactly, things could go from bad to worse.

Besides, in his lifetime, he had met extra-dimensional aliens, been adopted by Death, been also adopted by said aliens, worked to defeat a multi-planar menace that even Jeffandrew had needed assistance with defeating… oh, and solved so many crimes that he had actually lost count. He had experienced, up close and personal, exactly how things could go wrong, and how badly it did when it happened.

Therefore, the small figure in the upper gallery should not have been a shock. During his youth, Angus had been told numerous times not to meddle in affairs way above his education grade, pay grade, and - how old are you, kid? Yeah, you must be this tall to enter crime fighting, there, Junior.

Now it looked like someone else was just as bad at listening to authority figures as he was. And, oh shit, they had an Obscura 6000.

The latest from Miller Labs, those who didn’t have the time, energy, or inclination to sit with a piece of paper and a magic marker could now capture a moment in mere instants. It used, in Taako’s words, an unholy mish-mash of magic to accomplish it, including Miller Labs’ Artificial Eye. Which needed a lot of light to function properly. Which, in turn, had lead to the invention of the Nova Flash. Which technically counted as a weapon in many circles.

It was time to pull a Taako.

What was the highest-level spell he could use that could incapacitate these walking offal-bags without harming the photographer upstairs? Ah. All these chucklefucks were in a thirty-foot circle.

Angus ducked out of hiding and cast Weird on them. Just as the figure above primed the Obscura 6000 and said, “Smile for the front page, boys.”

Whoomph.

Angus had employed his smoked glass lenses for this turn. And closed his eyes. And raised his wand arm so that it should obscure any flash.

He still saw his bones when the light went off.

The chucklefucks were blinded. Angus wasn’t much better and the mystery person in the gallery, shielded by her own tech, said, “Professor McDonald?” in an awed yawp.

Angus summoned his invisible servant, Reeves, and bade it escort him out of the danger zone.

Someone was floating his way. He could tell by the softly flapping fabric. “So sorry about that,” she said. “Agatha Tremaine, investigative reporter. I had no idea that you were this close to that case.” Her feet finally touched the ground. “If you let me give you a piggyback, I can Expeditious Retreat our way out of here while the authorities arrive.”

Taako and Carey should have dealt with the wards by now. “Well, yes. The Bureau forces are on their way. I was sent ahead to make sure they didn’t up the odds on us.” He still allowed her to give him a piggyback, dismissing Reeves as the cult wasted their turns and spell slots on thin air and each other.

Pattering feet and a rush of air. Cool brick against his back. A warm presence that smelled of Sweet Nectar, one of the lower-end ladies’ perfumes. A little went a very long way and, judging by the scent, she had either watered it down or was using it very sparingly.

“We should be out of the line of fire, here.”

“Great. We can talk about how an investigative reporter didn’t know the best people were on the case and nearly fucked up the entire mission.”

“It’s not my fault you never tell the press anything…”

“No, it’s the fault of hundreds of snoops like you getting in the way, getting in danger, and gumming up the works of a finely-tuned crime-fighting machine.”

Something exploded. Great. Auntie Lup was in the mix.

“Sounds like it slipped a cog.”

Sigh. “No. That’s Lup doing her thing. She likes to make certain that any transgressors regret it for the last milliseconds of their lives.”

“Wow. I wish I could get pictures, but that was my last Big Bang.”

Even though he couldn’t see her, he leveled a glare at her. “Your last what now?”

“Nova Flash is fine for taking pictures and temporary incapacitation, but if you want a baddie blinded for twenty minutes or more, you need better than that. So… I invented the Big Bang. Fifty times brighter than a Nova and with that long-lasting kick that means they’re out of the game until it’s over.” She sounded so very enthusiastic about it all. “And it gives great fidelity. Just loo- oh.”

“When will this wear off for me?”

“Oh. Whoops. Here.” A small phial pressed into his hands. “Potion of seeing. Lasts just as long as the ill effects from the Big Bang.”

It tasted like Jersey Caramels. Angus blinked and… smiling back at him was a lovely young lady about his age. She had Tinkers’ Goggles on her head, holding down her Newsie cap. A bandolier of potions hung across her torso and her satchel of holding had her Obscura 6000 poking out of it. And some impressive tools. Her hand, still holding his, bore the distinctive stains of a potions brewer and alchemist.

“You’ve multiclassed,” he said. “Alchemy, tinkering, potions… why are you just a newsie?” Oops. He hadn’t meant to sneer in her direction. “The Bureau should have snapped you up ages ago.”

“I keep getting letters from them. Well. From people pretending to be them. After the fifth death trap I stopped paying any attention to them. Did you know? There’s even people who tracked me down pretending to be from there.”

“Were any of them wearing bracers like this one?” Angus showed his left arm.

Agatha stared. “That’s… not a fake.”

“It’d be a shock to everyone if it was,” Angus joked. “How many fakes have you seen?”

“Fifteen of varying quality. The ones you can get from the costume stores get told to go home and think about what they’ve done. I’ve taken notes about the others.” She had a Book of Transcription. What she wrote on those pages would appear in its clone, doubtless in a very safe place, for the erudition of another. There, in the pages, in tiny writing, was all the details the Bureau would ever need about the false Bureaus they had been hunting down since they went public.

Angus had to use his magnifying glass to read it all. “This is amazing. I take it you didn’t fall for any of their shenanigans.”

“Only the most convincing one,” Agatha pointed to the most realistic bracer variant. “Good thing I always give them my ‘special’ tea.”

“Sleepy drops and truth serum?” Angus guessed.

“More or less right on the money.”

“Madam,” said Angus, just as the main warehouse imploded. “How would you like to work with us?”

It was, compared to some members of the family, a whirlwind romance[2]. They shared their first kiss after a week of working together, in congratulations for busting the most dangerous ring of Bureau impersonators.

After that, their missions out in the field were more like dates, replete with witty repartee. He even proposed during a mission where they were posing as newlyweds. The kissing, the champagne, and her no-nonsense way had all gone to his head and he didn’t regret an instant of it.

After all, when you find a truly competent woman, who isn’t already involved with someone smarter or faster than you, you do not let her go.

[1] Why DO all of those Lovecraftian cults exist anyway? If something was gonna eat me whether I wanted it or not, I sure as sugar would do my best to firkin starve that mofo. Or at least poison it.

[2] Barry and Lup took almost fifty years to admit they were in love. Magnus and Julia had to stage a rebellion before they got married. Taako and Kravitz finally tied the knot after two years of living together. By comparison, Angus and Agatha’s six-month engagement was very rapid indeed.

There was music. Someone humming. The bed was soft and warm and Angus almost didn’t want to wake up because he was sure it was a dream. That if he opened his eyes, he would be warm because one of the other kids had peed on his bed, which was only ever warm when that happened. The rest of the time, the metal cots of the orphanage were permanently cold, lumpy, and damp.

But there was never any music in the orphanage. And as his bedroom door creaked, bringing the humming closer, Angus opened his eyes and found the blur that was his spectacles. This couldn’t be the orphanage. They made him wait in line for them. And took them away at night. Here, he had a say in when he could see.

The humming person sparkled, and the blur of their head was mostly golden. That meant it had to be Mr Taako. Angus put his glasses on and smiled because he had it exactly right. Mr Taako kept humming as he drew the curtains. “Mornin’ little man. Do you know what today is?”

“Tuesday the fifteenth?”

“Technically correct,” said Mr Taako. “Today’s your party day, Angus. You are now and forever officially part of the family. Which means that you, my lovely little human bean,” Mr Taako added a playful boop to Angus’ nose, “get to meet the rest of our strange breed.”

It still seemed impossible. He hadn’t thought anyone could ever want a nerdy little kid like him, who only ever wanted to read in quiet corners, and whom all the other kids picked on. And, now that he had to mention it, was four years old and already knew how to use words like ‘whom’ properly.

“Are you sure they’ll like me, sir?”

There was that look again. Mr Taako had heterochromia, and his mismatched eyes echoed a pain that Angus couldn’t understand. And there was sympathy there, and more than a little sorrow. “Angus. My dude. They are going to love you because we love you. You’re family. You gotta love family.”

There was a second figure in the doorway. All shades of black and silver. “Dove, something in the kitchen is beeping and I know you told me to stay out of there…” Mr Kravitz looked vaguely worried.

“Fine. You take over with the bathing and dressing then. I’ll rescue the whatever.” Mr Taako swept a casual hand along Angus’ arm as he left, and passed Mr Kravitz by gathering him up in a kiss and a hug and sort of dancing his way through the door. He left pink lipstick on Mr Kravitz’s face, and Mr Kravitz didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. Mr Taako rushed off with a, “Later, babe.”

“Love you, babe,” Mr Kravitz called back. He cleared his throat and put on one of his silly voices. “Roight,” he said. “I see we ‘ave ‘ere a desperate case of a small boy still in ‘is pajamjams. I ‘ereby sentence ‘im to a bubble bath followed by a roight proper dressin’ up.”

The voice always made Angus giggle. In fact, it had been the first thing that he had ever dared laugh at.

Mr Kravitz hugged him out of bed and carried him to the bathroom. It had a tub so big that four orphanage kids could easily occupy it, and it was always sparkling. Sparkling clean and just plain sparkling because every surface seemed made to glitter or gleam.

The water was steaming, but Mr Kravitz made certain that it wasn’t too hot, and let Angus pick the scent of the bubbles. Both Mr Kravitz and Mr Taako were always so careful at bath time. They never got soap in his eyes when doing his hair and they were never rough with him.

The nurses at the orphanage always plunged him into tepid, soapy water and gave him a thorough going-over with a scrubbing brush and lye soap. And the towels there were rough, mean things.

Not here. Here, Angus got a big, fluffy towel that could have been a blanket if it wanted to be. And then a bathrobe for the trip back to his room. Where he had license -after putting on his own undies- to pick out the clothes he wanted to wear that day.

His eye lingered on the dress with rainbows of mermaid sequins on it that Mr Taako had picked for him when they were shopping, but he wasn’t quite brave enough to try it on, just yet. He picked a staid and sensible pair of short pants, a button-down shirt, and a sweater-vest. And a bow-tie. He finished the look with a fancy cap with a feather in it. They were good clothes.

Mr Kravitz oversaw the shoes and socks. “Happy with this look?” he said.

“Yes, sir.” He looked exactly like one of the fancy boys he’d only seen from a distance. Walking hand-in-hand with a caregiver or staring out of coaches and bored by the fact that they could actually sit in a coach. “I’m starting to feel like this is really real.”

Mr Kravitz offered his hand, and Angus didn’t mind that his grasp was a little on the chilly side. Angus had never really had a caregiver to hold his hand and rather liked the privilege.

When they got downstairs, there were two Mr Taako’s. Side by side and cooking together as if they had been like that forever. Except one of him had their eyes around the wrong way. Green and amber instead of amber and green.

And she had a slightly different voice. “Oh wow,” she said. “Koko, I’m stealing your baby.”

“You and Barold are capable of making your own,” said Mr Taako. He had said he had a twin, but hadn’t mentioned how very much alike they looked.

“You must be Ms Lup,” Angus said. “Hello, ma’am.”

“Are you always this formal, kiddo?” asked Ms Lup.

“Yes’m. May I have a cookie, please?”

“One condition,” she juggled one off the cooling rack. “Say the worst word you know.”

“Do not corrupt my son, Lulu.”

Angus felt like he wanted to cry. He looked up to Mr Kravitz for permission.

“Go on. I’m sure we all know worse ones.”

Angus took a deep breath. Summoned up all his courage. Screwed his eyes shut and said, “Boogerface!”

Which earned him peals of laughter from Ms Lup and one cookie per hand. “You’re adorable. And too cute.” She knelt on the floor and smiled. “I’m your Auntie Lup and you will never, ever be able to get rid of me.”

Mr Taako said, “Ain’t that the fuckin’ truth.”

Ms Lup leaped up, “Oh shit, you said fuck!”

Mr Taako countered, “Oh fuck, you said shit!” And both of them laughed.

Mr Kravitz urged Angus out into the garden. “Let’s meet some others before those two expand your vocabulary.”

The first of the ‘others’ that Angus met was not a person, but an enormous dog. Angus turned away from trying to peek back at Mr Taako and Ms Lup to come face to whiffling nose with the biggest dog he had ever seen in his life.

“Johann! Down.”

And like a miracle, the dog was lying on the ground, legs tucked under its body and tail wagging optimistically. There was a big man, bigger than Mr Kravitz, who looked like he could wrestle a bear and win. He had bigger muscles even than Mr Thud, the orderly who dragged off the kids who got way too rowdy.

Angus was clinging tight to Mr Kravitz’s leg and willing himself not to hide.

The giant sat down on the ground and gentled his voice. One hand was on the dog and the other was on his knee. “Hey, little buddy,” he cooed. “It’s okay. I know you’re scared, and I promise I won’t hurt you. My name’s Magnus Burnsides, and I work with Taako from time to time.”

Angus slackened his grip on Mr Kravitz, who was gently patting Angus’ hair and shoulders. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a whisper. “That’s the biggest dog I ever saw…”

Mr Burnsides didn’t say anything like, “He’s just a puppy,” or, “He’s just a big softie.” What he did say was, “Yeah, I guess he might be. He’s bigger than you, I saw that. But he’s a good dog, and you can come pet him if you want to.”

Angus shook his head.

“Do you want to see the smallest dog ever?” asked Mr Burnsides.

Nod.

Mr Burnsides reached into a bag he had  slung over one shoulder and opened his palm to reveal a ball of fluff that opened beady eyes and yawned. “This is Mitzy. She’s a Pomeranian, and she’s also a puppy. I’m in the middle of being her mom, so she sleeps in the bag to stay warm. In fact, it’s almost time to give her a bottle of milk. Would you like to help?”

Nod.

In ten minutes, he was helping bottle feed the tiniest and fluffiest puppy in the world, and running a careful hand gently along the cloud of her fur. She was softer than the cats that shared this house with Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz. And Angus had almost forgotten about being afraid of either Mr Burnsides or Johann, who was leaning his head on Angus’ knee and trying to look pitiful for the hope of sausage.

Mitzy, once she was done having her bottle, had to go back into the bag so she could sleep and grow. Mr Burnsides had a Rock of Heat in there, all wrapped up in a hand-knitted cosy so that Mitzy wouldn’t accidentally get hurt.

There were lots of people by the time Mitzy had to go back to the bed in the bag. Most of them were grownups and most of them were very pointedly leaving Angus to his own devices. Not in a mean way, like the people in the orphanage who had too much to do and never enough time. This was…

This was the older Human woman in the blue robes who, between this or that sentence, looked over at Angus to make sure he was okay.

This was the Gnome, his grey hair barely restrained in a series of ties and braids, casually passing by now and again with a look of concern on his face.

This was the older Human man with the dad bod, the glasses, and the mullet; sending covert hand signals to Mr Burnsides that weren’t that covert but still checking that all was well.

This was the old Dwarf restraining his rambunctious, loud, and enthusiastic son with friendly wrestling and tickles, while his daughter attempted to lecture the boy about how he should learn to be careful with ‘fragile people’.

This was Mr Taako asking permission to pick him up and introduce him to everyone.

This was Ms Lup kissing his forehead as she embraced them both in her arms.

This was Mr Kravitz rubbing his back as he smooched Mr Taako.

This was Ms Carey and Ms Killian asking to hold him and ruffling his hair and saying how jealous they were that they didn’t get Angus first and insisting that they were now his Aunts despite obviously not being related to anyone else here.

This was people caring for each other.

Once upon a time there was a little boy who gave up. He learned fast, and what he learned was that the people around him were too busy to care. They took care of him, that was true, but they did so in a mechanical and functional way. He had food to eat. He was clean. He had clothes and shelter and a place to sleep. But he had no choices, no options, and not a scrap of sympathy. He learned to hide in plain sight. Be unimportant. And though the bullies and the nasty people were still nasty, they sort of gave up too. And the people who took kids to new homes took the babies, and they took the kids who performed well for the visits. They never looked at Angus. Until one did.

Mr Bluejeans was married to Ms Lup. A fact Angus found out as he was watching Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz slow dance to music that only they could hear. Mr Bluejeans was soft and warm and a little awkward, and the most important thing was he was honest.

“You’re lucky Taako found you before Lup did, I think,” he said, apropos of nothing. “Lup’s… I love her, I married her, I became a lich with her, but…”

“She’s bright and loud,” said Angus, and flinched a little.

But Mr Bluejeans laughed. “Yeah. She’s bright and loud and she doesn’t use her middle gears a lot. She’d have scared you, during those first few weeks.”

A little bolder, Angus said, “Everything scared me during those first few weeks.”

Captain Davenport, sitting nearby, said, “You’re allowed to talk about it. If you want to.”

Angus spoke about the first handful of days when Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz learned not to come in to Angus’ space without some form of warning. How they would hum and sing and talk to themselves as they moved around the house so that Angus would know that they weren’t sneaking up on him. He spoke of how they were careful to have his permission to touch him, and how they learned so hard what was right for Angus. And how Taako offered to cook Angus’ favourite and the little boy had cried because he hadn’t known what his favourite food was. And most importantly of all, how he didn’t know at all why two people that in love, and that helpful, and that careful could want an invisible kid like Angus.

“He didn’t tell you?” said his Auntie Lup. “We used to be invisible kids, once. We made a career out of it.”

Once upon a time there were two kids who only had each other. They were too old to be cute and too young to be that alone. They didn’t have an orphanage and learned to rely on the kindness of strangers. Which wasn’t all that reliable. They learned fast and hard to be friendly and useful and very, very careful around angry people. They learned that the world was harsh and cruel and so many were out to get them simply because they were invisible kids. They worked when they should be playing. They starved when they should be eating. They huddled together for warmth when they should have had shelter and a bed and even someone who took care of them. The one called Lup grew a hard shell and lost her middle gears and fought the world. The one called Taako learned to wheedle and bargain and negotiate and lie his way around all their problems. They knew what being invisible was like.

The biggest shock of the evening was that Angus was taller than Mookie. The rambunctious Dwarven boy was only up to Angus’ shoulders, but he filled the space around him with an aura of indomitable glee for life, the world, and anything in it he could wrestle with. But Mookie also saw the fading bruises from the last people to mishandle Angus ever and he actually quieted down.

“People used t’ hurt’cha. Didn’t they?”

Angus pulled the long sleeves back down and didn’t look at anything.

“It’s okay,” said Mookie in the closest thing he had to a whisper. Which was just a little bit softer than his usual shout. “When ya wanna… Magnus an’ Carey an’ Killian an’ me can show you how to beat up people like that so they never hurt’cha again.” 

It was the first time Angus had ever heard a kid refer to adults by their given names.

This was people saying, You are not alone. In every way they knew how.

Once upon a time, there was a little boy who gave up… And he was found by someone who had been a little boy who once had nothing but one special sister. Together, with all his friends, they all made a family…

It was a special day, so it was extra long. Mookie wore himself out wrestling Uncle Magnus’ dogs, Uncle Magnus, and Carey and Killian. And now he was curled up with the dozy dogs in a corner that promised to be out of the weather.

Mavis had curled up with a book in one of the cotes tucked in random places in this house.

All the adults were seated in a different one, all in a big circle. They were drinking wine and talking across purposes and laughing together and Angus leaned against Taako while Kravitz draped an arm around his shoulders. Every now and again, one or the other would lean over and they would kiss.

Angus had never stayed up before, and he felt safe enough to deny being tired. Despite blinking for very, very, very long times. Until he had one blink between that night and the next morning.

He woke up in someone’s arms. He woke up to the sound of purring. Purring that came from Taako and at least three of the household cats, who were arranged on both him and Taako and somehow most of the gigantic cote they were still in. There was a fluffy blanket over them both.

Angus felt a moment of panic because he was no longer wearing his glasses, but the instant he moved, he felt them under his pillow.

Kravitz was singing an early morning singing song that contained a lot of ‘la’s and ‘low’s and sounded happy.

Angus cleaned his glasses on his shirttails and attempted to wriggle free of Taako, who mumbled an incomprehensible complaint and gripped a little tighter. All unthinking, he said, “Papa, let me up? I need to go pee.”

Taako said, “Mrmblmrf,” but let him go.

Angus found his shoes in the cote, but didn’t know how to do the laces without Kravitz’s help, so he picked them up and attempted to tippy-toe at least to the nearest bathroom.

This old house had once belonged to Taako’s grandfather. Some bathrooms had been modernised but most of them were still old-style garderobes that were a simple pit that lead down to the shaped tree’s roots. This, thankfully, was one with a proper porcelain throne in there.

Angus was rightfully scared of the garderobes.

As he emerged to solve the problem of where to wash his hands, Kravitz spotted him and switched to speaking. “Good morning, starshine. I’ve made some scrambled eggs. You hungry for that?”

“Yes please,” he said. “But I gotta wash my hands. Where–?”

“I’ll let you use the kitchen sink,” he nodded towards it. “Remember the soap.”

In a house where every room that had water also had at least fifteen different kinds of soap? Hard to forget. Angus picked the one that smelled like limes and lathered extensively.

Kravitz helped him dry off and assisted in sitting him on one of the tall kitchen stools.

The eggs were big and fluffy and perfect, and though Angus could choose between a dazzling array of condiments, he stuck with salt. At least for today.

And all unthinking, Angus said, “Thanks, Dad.”

Taako came stumbling into the room. Yesterday’s sparkling clothes all rumpled and his golden hair askew. “I had a wonderful dream,” he yawned. “That our beautiful little boy called me ‘Papa’.”

The way he said that made Angus brave enough to say, “I did call you ‘papa’. Is… that okay?”

Taako wrapped him up in a hug. Smooched his cheek. “Darling, it’s the absolute best.”

Angus ate his eggs and watched as his parents devolved from cleaning the kitchen to slow-dancing to music only they could hear. Everyone else had gone to their respective homes, but Angus knew they would be back. All at once or one at a time, they would be back.

He had a family, now.

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