Baby Blair: "Zero"
By: Denise James
Disclaimer: Okay, lemee see…Not mine, wouldn’t mind if they were. Characters belong to Petfly. This AU story concept belongs to me. Not making any money, but I could really use it. Therefore, you shouldn’t sue me unless you are really desperate for two picky, pesky dogs that eat a lot. A husband that also eats a lot and a little boy who loves hotdogs with big catsup, big mustard and fri fris…..
My love goes to Aaron who provides a world of inspiration and my sister who insists on taking advantage of said inspiration. Thanks also to all of you who have written me regarding this series. You’ll never know how much your words mean to me. Thanks go to qwikshot16 for asking for another Baby Blair story... Even though I'm in the middle of writing Rekindled right now. I wasn't going to stray... But a boy dressed in black and carrying a big sword had other ideas. I'm getting back to Rekindled right now... um... promise.
The strangers black cape swooshed while he slashed his sword viciously through the air.
James Ellison held his hands up in defense, as the masked do-gooder backed him into a corner. "Please don't hurt me. I promise I won't do it again."
The black clad figure seemed to give the promise some thought, and then in a voice that commanded obedience, "Tuwn awound and put youw hands on de wauw."
Ellison complied and soon felt the tip of the sword press against his rear end.
"Swoos, swoos, swoos." The black clad figure stated softly and soon Jim felt the marking of a Z on his rear. The do-gooder stepped back. "Don't fowget youw pwomise."
"I promise, I won't. By the way, what's your name?"
"Zewo."
"Will I see you again?"
"Onwy if you bweak youw pwomise." The comment was followed by the sound of boots running across a hardwood floor.
Jim turned around slowly to find that he was alone. Grinning to himself and shaking his head he whispered, "Zero. What will Blair come up with next?" Wondering if his precious son was through with him, he made his way to the child's small bedroom and leaned in the doorway. As usual, the room was a disaster area and little Blair stood in the middle of the chaos swinging his sword and bouncing while his eyes were glued to the television screen. Godzilla roared and made his appearance much to Blair's delight. Jim had to cover his ears against the shrill squeal of joy.
"Hewp me Godziwa! I need you!" Blair called, his little head cocked back, looking much like a wolf howling at the moon.
Again Jim shook his head, satisfied that Blair would be occupied for a while he left for the kitchen to start dinner.
Blair sat at the dinner table, his booted feet swinging as he picked at his vegetables. Jim frowned when he noticed the little one doing more playing than eating. "You need to eat son. Good guys need their strength if they want to catch the bad guys."
Blair looked up, his little face still concealed by his Batman costume which had been momentarily changed to transform him into Zorro: his black cowboy hat hiding the bat ears on the cowl. The boys questioning blue eyes stood out against the black mask. "Zewo is a gowd guy wight?"
"Yep, Zorro is a good guy. He dresses all in black and he catches the bad guys."
"Me know dat. He puts z's on der booties too. Wike me."
"He sure does. Speaking of which, are you going to sew my good pants back up?"
Blair blinked at his father.
"Uncle Simon won't let me come to work with a hole in my britches." He teased.
"Datdy." Blair sighed, laying his spoon down and gesturing dramatically with his little hands. "It was just
'tending. You gots no howe in you bwitches."
"I don't?" Jim acted like he was trying to see his bottom. "Are you sure? That sword felt awfully real to me junior."
Blair giggled and pulled his sword out of his belt. "See? It's not weaw. It won't huwt you." He waved the plastic toy so that his father could have a good look.
"Whew, that's a relief." Jim grinned. "Now, you need to put the toy down and eat."
"Do I have to eat dis?" Blair asked, scrunching his nose and pointing to the green beans.
Jim arched a brow. "Do you want to have muscles so you can wrestle down the bad guys?"
Blair nodded.
"Well then, you have to eat your green beans."
"What about dese?" He pointed to his carrots.
"Yep, those too. Zorro has to have good eyes to spot the bad guys." Jim began eating again as he watched Blair scrutinize his plate.
"What's dis?" He asked, thumping a cubed piece of white meat.
"Chicken. You like chicken."
"Oh, okay." Using his chubby fingers, Blair popped a piece of chicken into his mouth and smacked loudly. "Kin we have dis again? Me wikes chick'n."
"We'll have some more tomorrow for dinner. I cooked extra on the grill tonight."
"K. Kin we have a salat too? Wiff matos and cheese?"
"A salad with tomatoes and cheese?"
Blair nodded. "Zewo wikes dat. It's gowd fow me."
"That sounds good, but for now you need to eat what's on your plate."
The boy frowned and sat back crossing his little arms over his chest. "I not hungy... too fuw."
"Well, if you're too full to eat your dinner, then you'll be too full for a snack before bed time." Jim smiled as Blair's eyes widened while he reconsidered the food on his plate.
"Oh. Maybe just a wittwe bit den. Me tummy is gwumbwy." Taking his spoon, he scooped up a few green beans and ate them.
Still sporting his costume, Blair ran from his room and into the kitchen where his father was cleaning up the dinner dishes. "Datdy?" He asked standing next to his father and tugging on the older man's trousers.
"What baby?" Jim asked as he rinsed a plate.
"Kin I has a howse?" Blue eyes blinked expectantly.
"Blair... I.."
Hearing the pending "NO" in his fathers tone Blair continued, placing little hands on his hips. "Datdy, wet me telled you sumthin'. Zewo has a howse. He has to chase de bad mens so I needs a howse too."
Jim grinned, but quickly wiped the smile from his face as he tried to replace it with a serious front. He knew his little Blair was serious about this after all it made perfect sense. He had the outfit... therefore he needed the horse too. If he laughed at the boy, then Blair would only become angry and continue to pester him for the horse. But, if he talked to Blair in a serious manner, and showed him the reasoning behind why he couldn't have one, then maybe... just maybe his little one would accept it, and hopefully wouldn't bring the subject up again. Well... it worked for the pig three weeks ago when Blair had seen a pot bellied pig on Animal Planet... maybe it would work for the horse. "Where would you keep it chief?"
Blair stared up at his father like it was an obvious answer. "In me woom of cowse."
"What if it poops in your room... who's gonna clean it up?" Jim arched a brow.
Blair thought about it for a moment, obviously this had not crossed his mind. Then he pointed to Jim. "You, cause you de datdy."
"Oh, I don't think so squirt. I have enough on my hands taking care of you."
"Okay," Blair sighed. "I cwean up de mess." He made a face as if thinking of the actual act.
"You know a horse has big feet right?" Blair nodded. "Well, what if he steps on your Darth Vader, or your Batman and breaks them? If you had a horse in your room, you would have to keep your room clean all of the time."
Blair turned to look at his room and then turned back to his father. "He couwd stays in you'we woom."
Jim knelt in front of his son, and placed his hands gently on the child's shoulders. "No baby, horses make me sneeze. Besides, horses really need to be outside, someplace big where they can run around and play. We don't have a place like that here. I think that a horse would be really sad if he didn't have that... don't you?"
Blair stared deeply into his father's eyes and then nodded. "Guess you'we wight." He answered sadly, now looking dejectedly at his well-worn black boots.
"You know what? I'll bet uncle Simon would let you play with Old Stogy some. That would be pretty cool huh?"
Blair's eyes brightened a bit at the thought of playing with uncle Simon's race horse. "Uh huh."
"I'll ask him tomorrow, alright?"
"Okay. Tanks datdy. I wuffs you big bunches." Blair stretched his arms out wide. "Dis big. Biggah dan de wowd."
Jim's eyes widened. "Bigger than the world?"
Blair nodded excitedly.
Jim smiled and scooped his energetic son up in a bear hug. "I love you too chief. Big, big bunches."
Jim had finally coaxed Zorro out of his outfit and into the tub and from the mounds of bubbles emerged a talkative Blair. Asking questions like "why did the dinosauw eat de phone in Juwassic Pawk?" And "Would you stick youw hand in dinosauw poop?" While his father answered as gracefully as possible while trying not to injure himself from laughing too hard.
Soon after Jim had thoroughly scrubbed his son, and Blair had educated his father on why it wasn't good to scream around dinosaurs, the talkative toddler was dried, dressed and bounding for his room with his father close behind. Jim bit his tongue to keep a string of curses from flowing over his lips, when the tender part of his foot landed on an unyielding Duplo block.
Blair scampered into his bed, pulling the Tonka sheets up to his chin. "Whas wong wiff you datdy?" He asked, noting the pain filled expression on his father's face.
"I stepped on one of your stupid blocks." The older man replied angrily.
Blair made a face. "Ewww, dats *gotta* huwt. You gonna cwy datdy? Want me to kiss it an makes it bettah?"
Jim took in the sincere expression on his son's face and shook his head. He couldn't help but smile, his anger quickly fading. "No you don't have to kiss it, but..."
Blair jumped in, his face beaming with a smile. "Gowd, 'cause you gots big stinky feets." He giggled. "I smelleded dems befowe and dey week."
"They reek?" Blair nodded. "Thanks chief for bringing that to my attention..." Jim replied dryly. "...But you know if you would pick up your stuff I might not get hurt... you don't want daddy to get hurt do you?"
Blair shook his head, curls splaying wildly on his pillow. "No, I wuffs you datdy."
"That's good to know. So, when we get home from school tomorrow, are you going to clean up your room?"
Blair sat up and scanned his room, pulling an unhappy face. "I can't cween dis up by myself." Then placing chubby fingers to his chin and thrumming them thoughtfully he said. "Hummmm... wet me tink. I tink you needs to hewp me."
"But I didn't make the mess... you did." Jim emphasized the point by tickling Blair's belly.
The little one squirmed and giggled until the tickling was over and then became serious again. "But datdy... wet me telled you sumthin' . I'm just a wittwe boy. You has to hewp me. You my datdy." He nodded as he spoke, as if this was a well known law of the universe.
How could a father not go along with that kind of logic? "I see. Well...we'll discuss this some more tomorrow." He started tucking Blair back in. "But for now, it's bed time."
"Kin I heaw my Atwantis stowy?"
"Sure." Jim reached over to the bedside table and turned the little CD player on. Soon voice of the storyteller came on giving instructions on when to turn the page of the book that came with the CD. Little Blair enjoyed his books on tape.
Watching his father's movements closely, Blair spoke as soon as Jim reached to turn off the bedside lamp. "An kin we weave the wight on too?"
Little eyes looked fearful for a moment but relaxed when Jim answered, "Sure chief. You still having bad dreams?"
Blair shrugged and looked at his hands. "I don't membah dems." He whispered.
"That's okay. What's your favorite thing to dream about?" Jim asked hoping to change the subject.
Blair perked up instantly. "Dewes dis big bwack kitty..." His arms went wide showing the size of the kitty. "An dis baby wowf puppy... he's pwetty. Dey pway in de twees an dey rundded an chase each uddahs."
Jim smiled at Blair's enthusiasm and wide eyes. "Sounds like a nice dream chief. Maybe you can dream about them again tonight and they'll chase the bad dreams away."
"Maybe." Blair yawned loudly and then smacked. "I wuffs you datdy. You a gowd datdy."
Jim smiled and leaned down to kiss his son's forehead. "I think you're pretty special too kiddo. I love you. Now, close your eyes and go to sleep..." He ruffled the curly mop of hair as he stood. "...You've got school tomorrow."
"You too datdy. You gots wowk tomowwow." He yawned loudly. "An catse dems bad guys."
"I'll do that chief." Jim made his way carefully through the room to avoid further injury to his still throbbing foot, and turned out the overhead light as he reached the door. He looked back at Blair and noticed that the little one was already fast asleep and smiling.
"I'm zewo." He mumbled softly, his hands twitching in time with his dream.
Satisfied that the dream was a good one, Jim made his way around the loft securing doors and turning out the lights. Bed did sound good so he made his way upstairs to his room and to his own dreams of black panthers frolicking with little wolf pups.
The End
Back to the fiction
menu
Back to
Santana's Place