#taako may be a bit of a jerk to ango but he fully adores these kids

[comradelup]

@taz-channukah-event / dec 17th: author’s choice!

“Yeah… no, I get it… I’ll tell them, we’ll be fine,” Taako says into the phone, peering out the curtain. The snow falls in big fat flakes, and there’s billions of them. He can barely see the end of the driveway.

He walks away from the window and starts pacing back and forth, very much aware of the three pairs of eyes on him.

“We should just be a tiny bit late, it isn’t that bad,” Lup says over the phone.

“They can’t hear you, Lu.”

“…Yeah, we won’t make it.”

Taako sighs heavily, a hand coming to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Okay. That’s fine.”

“It’s not! We wanna spend Channukah with our babies!” Lup whines, sounding very much like a baby herself.

“Well, first off, your youngest is five, hardly babies,” Taako says, sending a grin the kids’ way as he says it. Gordie, the five year old in question, giggles. “Second, it’s just one night, they’ll be fine.”

“…I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am!” Taako says jovially, placing a hand on his hip and winking at the kids. “Uncle Taako’s always right!”

“Yeah!” the kids cheer, and he can tell Lup heard it, because she laughs wetly.

“It’s settled then!” Taako announces, adopting a goofy gesture as he addresses his sister. “You and Daddy hide at Grandma Marlena’s house, while Uncle Taako and his anklebiter army fights off the snowstorm monster!”

Gordie and Izzy giggle at that; Jo is the oldest and least entertained by this but they still smile at the silliness, which makes Taako feel a little less bad about how ridiculous he must look right now. He’s learned that uncle-hood means a lot of sacrificing your dignity for kids.

Izzy says, “Can we say bye to Mommy?”

“Duh!” Taako says, and he puts the phone on speaker to let the kids yell at Lup.

He lets them trade goodbyes and “Happy Channukah”s and everything else that parents and kids talk about. Once the call’s over, he pockets his phone and claps his hands together.

“So! We’re home alone with free reign of the place.” He leans down to grin conspiratorially at them. “What do we do first?”

“Let’s make latkes!” Gordie exclaims.

“I wanna play dreidel,” Izzy says.

“And what about you, fireball?” Taako asks Jo.

“I, uh… I gotta go to the bathroom,” Jo says quickly, standing up and darting away.

That’s… probably something to look into later. But for now Taako lets them go, yelling after them, “Make sure to wash your hands, dirty bird!”

The other two giggle, as intended. Taako crouches before them and says to Gordie, “But I guess I should be telling you that, huh pipsqueak?”

Izzy laughs at him. “Yeah, babies need their diaper changed.”

“I’m not a baby! I’m five,” Gordie says, holding up his hand for emphasis.

“Oh yeah? Well I’m seven,” Izzy says, holding up seven whole fingers while blowing a raspberry.

“And I’m four hundred and twenty-three,” Taako says, “Count that on your fingers.”

Izzy stares at her hands, trying to find a way to do that, but Taako scoops up Gordie into his arms before they get too into math, yuck.

“I’m up for latkes! Who said latkes?” he asks, spinning Gordie in a big circle to elicit a laugh from him.

“I did!” Gordie cheers.

“Then let’s go, latke boy!” Taako says, making an airplane noise as he flies Gordie into the kitchen, Izzy trailing after and saying something about getting a turn.

(Of course, she gets one. The duties of an uncle includes nearly tossing a tiefling girl into the air and not impaling yourself on the way down. At least she’s not the one who bursts into flame when too excited.)

They’re almost done with their first batch of pancakes when Jo leaves the bathroom. They sit down at the kitchen island looking rather gloomy. That’s not gonna fly, not in Taako’s (sister’s) kitchen.

“Hey, you’re ten, not sixteen, no emo angst,” Taako tells them, pointing a spatula at their face.

“I’m not emo,” they reply, sounding… empty.

Taako might not be as good an uncle as he thought; his kids shouldn’t be sounding like that.

“Gordie, Izzy,” Taako says, turning to his little sous-chefs. He tasked Izzy with (carefully) grating potatoes for their second batch and Gordie with cracking an egg into a bowl and (gently) beating it. But they both stop what they’re doing and turn to him.

He plasters on a mischievous smile and says, “Go into the guest room and get the dreidels from my bag on the bed. I brought all of my collection, so pick your favorites.”

The two practically get stars in their eyes and run off to go retrieve the tops. Taako turns back to his pan.

“Spit it out, what’s up with you?” He doesn’t phrase it as a question.

“…I don’t wanna talk about it,” Jo says.

“Is it ‘cause your parents aren’t here?” Taako asks, and his voice gets softer. He glances over in time to see Jo nod silently.

He sighs. At this age, Jo won’t be distracted from stuff with games and food, they actually think broadly. Fuck, Angus is their age and look at all the thinking he does! …Point is, Taako should’ve expected this.

“Listen,” he says, unable to have a formal heart to heart due to having to keep an eye on the food. “I know it sucks, I want ‘em here too. You think I’m happy spending a Channukah night without my twin sister? No way.”

“Then why are you acting like this?” Jo asks, looking impatient. “Don’t just pretend they aren’t here!”

“I’m not pretending, I’m distracting. Look, your siblings would whine and cry if I acted like you are right now. Do you want them to cry?”

“…No.”

“No, ‘cause I don’t wanna deal with the headache that’d give me,” Taako jokes, but Jo doesn’t smile. Taako sighs, moves the pan off the heat, and leans on the island across from them.

“I get that you're sad and I’m not telling you to not miss them, I get it. But we’ll see them tomorrow, and we can all spend the last night together.”

“But… I just miss them,” Jo says, and they’re pouting a little.

“I know kid, me too,” Taako says, “But! That’s the point of me being all upbeat and shit— don’t say that word.”

“I won’t.”

“Good. See, your parents would be mad or sad or whatever if they think you didn’t have any fun. All they want is for you to enjoy the holiday. Like, they’re probably having tons of fun at your grandma’s.”

(Lup and Barry are probably cuddled up on a loveseat and telling stories of the kids to Marlena; fun for them, but Taako would’ve fallen asleep five minutes in.)

Jo still doesn’t look totally convinced. Time to break out the big guns.

Taako leans in as close as he can while his feet are still touching the ground. “You wanna know the secrets to cheating at dreidel?”

Jo looks up at him. “You can cheat?”

“Oh yeah,” Taako says with a smirk. “She doesn’t do it with you kids, but your mom is the queen at cheating at that game. She would walk away from the table with her arms full of gelt.”

Jo looks delighted. Lup never lets her chaotic side show in front of the kids, so Taako’s stories about it are guaranteed to be attention grabbers.

“I can show you how she does it, if you want.”

“Yes,” Jo says, leaning in with their hands on the table. They may be adopted, but that wicked grin on their face just screams Lup.

“But you gotta promise that it doesn’t leave this kitchen, got it?” Taako asks. They can’t have the other two learning about it and they especially can’t have their parents learning he taught them.

“Promise.”

Taako smirks and stands back up to go back to his cooking. “Good.”

Soon they were all gathered around the dining room table with bellies full of latkes and trading gelt back and forth. Taako winks over every cheated spin, and Jo is laughing.

That’s the reaction uncles should be getting. Much better.