Archive of Our Own ^beta

When Anna Nelson clicked the shutter button on her brand new camera (Edward had given it to her when they realized he had to extend the shop's hours, not cut them back, when the baby arrived, and he was determined not to miss a thing), four eyes--four shiny, keen, sweet baby eyeballs--crossed at the bright flash.

Awwww," Bess Mahoney cooed.

Baby Brett made a spit-bubble noise and rubbed his eyes, accidentally poking baby Franklin in the head with his elbow.

"Faaaa," grumbled Franklin, and stuck out his lower lip.

Brett blinked, stuck out his lower lip in sympathy, and patted his tiny hand gently over the little hurt.

"Oh God, Bess, hold me," Anna said, snapping the camera ceaselessly.

"Can't, have to go to work in an hour." Bess said, scooping up Brett. He whined a little and fought to stay. "I know, baby boy, we have to go now," she sing-songed at him. "You want to kiss Franklin goodbye?"

Anna picked up Franklin and they held their babies' faces close to each other, fervently hoping something adorable would happen.

Brett reached out, put his arms around Franklin's neck, and kissed him. "Muah."

The two mums tried not to die.

--

"Hi Fog," Brett stood in Bess' open apartment door, stamping his feet happily as Anna carried Foggy up the stairs.

"Hi Brett!" Foggy screamed back.

"That's ok, Mummy didn't need that ear anyway," Anna mumbled, wincing.

"Girl, you look like S-H-I-T," Bess said, plucking Foggy from her arms and placing him on the floor next to Brett. They thundered off to the nursery in that flat-footed toddler waddle that gave Bess the vapours.

"If your baby ate a dictionary, Bess, you'd look like the inside of a diaper too," Anna said.

"He's a talker?" Bess handed Anna a mug of coffee and let her collapse on the sofa.

"Every day it's six new words, and even if he doesn't know what he's saying he loves the sound so much he just keeps SAYING it." She pointed at an imaginary toddler and wiggled her finger to trace an imaginary bouncing path from one end of the room to the other, "cruetcruetcruetcruet…"

Bess laughed.

"Helicopterhelicopterhelicopterhelicopter," the imaginary toddler bounced back to where he started.

"Caterpillarcaterpillarcaterpillar!" Foggy and Brett started yelling in unison. Bess' laughter stopped cold.

"I quit being your friend," she said.

"Won't help," Anna said smugly.

--

"Foggy!" Edward Nelson called, skidding from one aisle of the hardware store to the next. "Foggy, son, where are you?"

"We're over here!" called Brett Mahoney's little voice.

Edward, Anna, and Bess, all faintly panicked, hoofed it to the aisle that held--oh Sweet Jesus--replacement sawblades.

When they got there, Brett had a hard grip on the wrist of a really really tiny kid who appeared to be made of 90% brown eyes and 10% skinned knee. He was sniffling, and Foggy was touching the boy's hair soothingly.

"What…?" Edward couldn't get the words out.

"He was gonna touch the sharpies!" Brett said angrily, pointing at the circular saw blades. They glinted dangerously, or maybe that was just Edward's imagination.

"You tattler!" Foggy put his fists on his hips and screwed up his face.

"Brett, honey, let go of him," Bess said, but Brett just glared at her.

"You're not supposed to touch the sharpies, it's the rules!" Brett yelled, and shook the boy's wrist.

"But he didn't, so he's not in trouble!" Foggy yelled back. "You're in trouble when you do the bad thing! Not before!"

"Oh boy," Bess muttered.

"Hey, is anyone in here missing a kid?" Anna yelled.

There was moment of echoing quiet, then, from four aisles over, "Oh fuck, Matt!"

A big guy ran into the aisle, his boots squealing on the floor. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Nelson, I swear I only took my eyes off him for a second." Matt pulled out of Brett's grip and ran face-first into his dad's knees.

"Don't worry, Sir, we got one too. They're slippery at this age," Edward said, ruffling Foggy's hair.

"You should punish him, he was bad." Brett told Matt's dad pugnaciously.

"Brett, oh my God," Bess said, and shot an apologetic look at the dad, whose eyebrows arched high. "I'm so sorry, I got a little tiny police officer on my hands."

"No he wasn't!" screamed Foggy. "Anyway you can't tell someone else's dad to do anything! You don't have the jurbisfiction!"

Edward bit his lip to keep from laughing. Matt's dad did too.

"And on that note, why don't you let me ring you up," Anna said, ushering Matt and his dad away from the yelling.

"Brett, shhhh!" Foggy interrupted whatever Brett was saying, index finger raised, and turned to wave at the departing boy, who was no longer on the verge of tears, but watching Foggy and Brett argue with his head puppy-dogged on one side. "Bye Matty!"

"Bye-bye," whispered Matt, waving back shyly.

Foggy turned back to Brett and put his hands in his hips again. "As I was saying!" he started.

"Learned that from you," Bess told Edward.

"We're not friends anymore!" Brett shouted.

"Honey, don't say that," Bess scolded.

Foggy's lip wobbled and his eyes filled with tears, but he visibly swallowed them down. "Fine!"

Edward hefted Foggy into his arms. "You don't mean that, kiddo. Bess, I'm sorry, he doesn't mean that."

"Neither does Brett, do you baby?"

"Do too!"

"Me too!"

"Oy gevalt," a very WASPy Edward Nelson sighed, and it made Bess smile. "Does that husband of yours have this Saturday off? We should have that roof barbecue before the weather turns."

"He does, and that sounds great. I'm sure these two will have forgotten all about this by then." She bounced Brett in her arms, who was still glaring daggers at Foggy.

Edward chuckled and kissed Bess' cheek.

"See ya round, Eddie," she said.

As Bess and Edward walked away from each other with their sons on their respective shoulders, Brett and Foggy's eyes met. Narrowed. Glared.

And a rivalry was born.