#pretty sure this AU is the only time I've ever written Filbrick not being Fildick

[thelastspeecher]

Angela Pines

I just wrote another 2k words for this AU today when I was supposed to be doing the dishes, so screw it, I’m gonna start posting what I’ve written.  This is the reason I haven’t been updating my multichaps.  I’ve been writing, but only writing my nonsense.  So, presented with zero context, here is some of what I’ve written for the AU that has been occupying my every waking moment the last few days.

Enjoy.

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              The bell over the door rang.  Filbrick looked up.  He frowned at the sight of his three sons rushing into the shop.

              “I thought you were gonna spend the whole morning at the beach,” he rumbled.

              “We were, Pops,” Stanford said.  He looked over at his older brother, Shermie.  “But…”

              “But what?” Filbrick asked.  Shermie walked over to Filbrick, carrying something in his arms.  He gently deposited it on the counter.  Filbrick’s eyes widened behind his glasses.  Sitting next to the register was a very young girl, no more than four.  Her dress was caked in sand and stiff, likely from soaking in saltwater and then drying in the sun.  She looked up at him balefully through a mess of tangled blonde hair.

              “Did you boys kidnap a little girl?” Caryn asked, propping a hand on her hip. She had been shining some of the display items, like she frequently did when she needed a break from being a phone psychic.

              “No!” Shermie said quickly.  “Stan found her washed up on the beach.”  Filbrick looked at his twin sons.

              “Which one?” he asked.

              “We both found her,” Stanley said.  Filbrick grunted and made a gesture for Shermie to continue.

              “They came and grabbed me, and we went all up and down the beach looking for her parents.  No one knew her.  I figured we should bring her back here for now.”

              “Hmph,” Filbrick grunted.  He parted the girl’s hair, revealing eyes the color of the ocean.  “What’s your name, kid?”

              “An-n-ngie,” the girl squeaked.  It almost sounded like she put a “B” at the beginning of her name, but Filbrick chalked that up to her age and apparent speech impediment.

              “How old are you, Angie?” Filbrick asked.  Angie held up three fingers.  “Three.”  Filbrick looked over at his wife.  “Caryn, get her cleaned up and bring her back down here.”  Caryn nodded.  She picked Angie up and brought her upstairs.

              “What’s gonna happen with her?” Stanford asked.

              “Dunno,” Filbrick said roughly.  “Go take over polishing for your mom.”  His sons did as they were told.  About ten minutes later, Caryn returned with Angie.  She was now wearing one of Stanford’s old overalls, and her hair had been carefully combed and put into a braid.

              “Poor thing seems scared out of her mind,” Caryn remarked, walking over to Filbrick.  She set Angie on the floor.  “We should probably call the authorities.”  Filbrick nodded.  At the feeling of something tugging his pants, he looked down.  Angie was now standing, staring up at him with enormous blue eyes, pulling on his pant leg.

              “Up?” Angie whispered fearfully, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. Filbrick picked Angie up, intending on handing her over to Caryn again.  However, she immediately nestled against his chest, clutching fistfuls of his shirt.  Her tiny body shook.  Filbrick felt himself soften.  He cleared his throat.

              “Shermie, take over the register.  I’m gonna go make some calls.”

              “You got it, Pops,” Shermie said, coming over.  Filbrick carried Angie up to the apartment above the pawnshop.  He grabbed the phone and went over to his armchair and sat down.  Now sitting in Filbrick’s lap, Angie leaned her head against his chest.  Filbrick softened further.  He coughed roughly and began the process of tracking down the girl’s parents.

              Half an hour later, the pawnshop closed for lunch.  Caryn, Stanley, Stanford, and Shermie all traipsed upstairs. The twins openly gaped at the sight of Filbrick in his armchair, Angie curled up in his lap fast asleep. Filbrick glared at his sons preemptively.  They scampered away without saying anything.

              “Any luck?” Caryn asked, walking over and kissing Filbrick on the cheek. Filbrick shook his head.

              “No.  I talked to my buddy on the force.  He didn’t have any reports of missing kids with her description.  But he said that it might take a while for the report to come in.”

              “Do you think we can…keep her?” Caryn asked softly.  Filbrick grunted.

              “It’s a kid, not a stray dog, Caryn.”  Angie shifted slightly in her sleep, mumbling something.  Filbrick softened yet again.  “Randy said that once it’s been a coupla weeks, we can be confident that her family either can’t or just flat-out doesn’t want to find her. And if it reaches that point, he’ll help with the adoption papers.”

              “She’s so sweet and small,” Caryn cooed, stroking Angie’s golden, silky hair. Filbrick had done the same earlier, but stopped when he heard footsteps on the stairs.  “I feel like she was meant for us to find, Filly.  We always wanted a little girl.”

              “You always wanted a little girl,” Filbrick grunted.  Caryn rolled her eyes.  She picked Angie up.

              “Don’t act like you weren’t disappointed you didn’t have a daughter to spoil rotten.”  Caryn carried Angie off, probably to put her in a bed better suited for her size. Filbrick suddenly missed the slight amount of warmth Angie produced in his lap.

              He got up and went to the kitchen to make a sandwich for lunch.

----- 

              Filbrick wandered into the kitchen for a glass of water.  He let out a yawn.  The chaos of the previous day, when they’d finally begun the formal process of adopting Angie, had worn him out thoroughly.  In the morning, they were planning on going to the store to get Angie some clothes, something he was already dreading.  He wasn’t one for clothes shopping.

              Small footsteps sounded.  Filbrick looked over.  Angie toddled past the kitchen entryway in the oversized shirt she was wearing as a nightgown, seemingly on a mission.  Filbrick quickly set the glass he’d grabbed on the counter and followed her.  He caught up to her just as she reached the top of the staircase leading to the pawnshop.

              “What are you doing out of bed, angel?” he asked, picking her up.  The nickname was Caryn’s creation.  It based upon her name, Angela, and the fact that she’d appeared out of nowhere.  Filbrick sometimes used the nickname in front of Caryn, but not his sons.  Not yet.  They didn’t need to know he had a soft side.

              “Fwog,” Angie mumbled blearily.  Filbrick frowned.  Frog? He turned her around.  Her eyes were glazed over.  She stared at him blankly.

              “You’re a sleepwalker, huh?” Filbrick muttered.  Angie babbled at him.  “And a sleeptalker, too.”  Filbrick carried Angie over to the recliner.  He sat down and leaned the chair back.  Angie curled up on top of him.  “Your mom and I figured out your middle name today,” he informed her, stroking her hair. “Diane.”  Angie brought her thumb to her mouth to suck on it.  “Angela Diane Pines.”  Angie abruptly sat up and made like she was going to walk away again. Filbrick quickly pushed her back down and held her there.

              “We’re gonna need to get you a crib, angel,” he said softly.  “Can’t have you falling down the stairs in the middle of the night.”  Angie nuzzled him happily.  Filbrick’s eyes slowly closed.  He fell asleep, Angie curled up in his lap.

----- 

              “Hi!” chirped Angie cheerfully to the latest customer to come to the cash register.  She’d been adopted for only a day, and already she was pulling her weight, at least, in Filbrick’s opinion.  Angie loved nothing more than being down in the pawnshop, following him around.  Her big blue eyes and rapidly growing wardrobe of adorable outfits caused customers to let their guard down and pay much more than they normally would.

              “Oh, hello,” the customer gushed at Angie, poking her prominent nose, eliciting a giggle from her.  Filbrick bit back the urge to tell off the customer.  He didn’t want strangers touching his daughter, but she didn’t seem to mind, and he could tell this customer might be willing to pay through the nose.  So he let it slide.  This time. “She’s adorable.”

              “Thanks,” Filbrick grunted, ringing up the purchase.  “We just adopted her yesterday.”

              “You- oh!  That’s so kind of you.”

              “Well, my sons found her washed up on the beach.  Turned out she was abandoned.  Couldn’t let a sweet little girl like her get lost in the system. Not when she’s got a family right here that would love her.”

              “Aw,” the customer cooed.

              “Sure, things might be a bit tighter with another mouth to feed.  But we had to take her in.”

              “You have such a big heart,” the customer said.  They took out a twenty-dollar bill and handed it over.  “Here.  And keep the change.  Put it towards food for your new little girl.”  Filbrick beamed at the customer.

              “Will do.  Say ‘bye’, Angie.”

              “Bye!” Angie said cheerfully.  The customer chuckled and left.  Filbrick looked over at his daughter proudly.  Not only did her cuteness lull customers into a false sense of security, but telling the story of how she came to live with them made people want to give big tips.

              “Already, you’re making us some money, angel,” he said appreciatively. Angie giggled.  She held her arms out.

              “Up, up!” she chirped.  Filbrick smiled and picked her up.  Angie giggled again.  Filbrick’s heart melted.  Angie had been nervous and scared the first week, but now she laughed and smiled all the time.  He would never admit it to Caryn, but he had been disappointed they never had a daughter. Sure, he wanted a son to pass down his name and store to.  But he also wanted a daughter to shower with attention and fuss over.  He didn’t just like having Angie in the shop because they made more money with her around.  He liked having her in the shop because he hated being away from her.

              Filbrick was already looking forward to taking out his shotgun for a cleaning the first time Angie brought a boy home.

              “All right, angel, time to get you ready for the ceremony,” he informed her. He walked over to the door and flipped the sign on it to read “CLOSED”.  Angie nestled against his chest as they went upstairs.  Filbrick handed Angie over to Caryn, who whisked her away to be put in a formal dress they got specifically for the occasion.  He looked over at his sons, sitting on the couch, dressed up.  Like usual, their hair refused to be tamed, despite Caryn’s best attempts.

              “Pops, do we really hafta go?” Stanley whined, kicking his feet.  “It’s just a dumb ceremony.”

              “It’s not dumb, Stan,” Filbrick rumbled.  “It’s your sister’s conversion.  She’s gone through the legal adoption, now she needs the religious one.”  Stanley crossed his arms and looked away.  Ever since they decided to adopt Angie, he’d been acting out more than usual.  Filbrick didn’t like that.  “You’re going to behave.”

              “Hmph,” Stanley huffed.  Shermie leaned over and tried to press down his younger brother’s exuberant curls.

              “Hey, maybe if we all behave, Mom and Pops will take us for ice cream after,” he whispered.  The twins’ eyes widened.  They looked at Filbrick.  Filbrick crossed his arms, but nodded.  The twins promptly sat up straighter, already acting on their best behavior.

              “All right, time to go to temple!” Caryn announced, returning with Angie, who was eagerly sucking on her fist.  She poked Angie’s nose.  Angie chortled around her fist.  “Are you ready, honey?”  Angie removed her fist and looked up at Caryn in what appeared to be shock.  Caryn kissed the top of her head, making her laugh again.

              “Come on, boys,” Filbrick grunted, ushering his sons down the stairs. “Let’s go.”

----- 

              Angie toddled around the store, following Filbrick as he closed things up for the night.  He glanced down every now and then to make sure he didn’t step on or trip over her, but she was maintaining a safe distance behind him.

              “Your mom made spaghetti tonight,” Filbrick informed Angie.  Angie let out a giggle.  Filbrick grinned.  He’d expected Angie’s predisposition to laughing to die down once she’d adjusted to living with them, as had her pediatrician.  But two months in, she still laughed at just about everything.  It was a far cry from Stanford’s tendency to cry at everything at her age.  Filbrick went over to the door, flipped the sign over to read “CLOSED”, and locked it.

              “Papa!” a voice chirped behind him.  He froze.  “Papa!” Filbrick turned around slowly.  He crouched down to Angie’s eye-height.

              “What was that, angel?” he asked.  Angie held out her arms, beaming.

              “Up, up, papa!” she said happily.  Filbrick stared at her.  Despite taking her in months ago, she hadn’t called him her dad yet, and also had yet to call Caryn her mom.  The pediatrician wasn’t sure whether it was because she didn’t think of them as her parents, or whether she was still working on assigning names to everyone. It had taken her weeks to start calling the twins “Stan” and Shermie “Sherm”.

              “We need to show this off to your mom,” Filbrick said.  He scooped Angie into his arms and carried her upstairs, his heart racing.  His little girl finally thought of him as her dad.

              “Pops, we’re gonna go get school stuff tomorrow, right?” asked Shermie the moment Filbrick entered the apartment.  Filbrick nodded.  “Got it.” Filbrick made a beeline for the kitchen, where Caryn was stirring a pot of sauce.  She looked up.

              “How’d things go, Filly?” she asked.  Filbrick opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Angie.

              “Mama, hold!” Angie whined, stretching her arms out for Caryn. Caryn’s eyes widened.  She took Angie from Filbrick.

              “That’s right, angel, I’m your mama,” she whispered, holding Angie tightly.

              “She called me ‘papa’ downstairs,” Filbrick informed her. Caryn squeezed Angie.

              “Oh, she’s finally really our little girl, isn’t she?  She knows we’re her parents.”  Filbrick nodded, trying to act stoic.  “And the boys have finally accepted her, too.  Our family’s complete, Filly.”  Angie looked over at Filbrick with a smile that stretched ear to ear.  Filbrick nodded again, caving once more at Angie’s exuberance.

              “Yes.  It is.”