Work Text:
The Birthday Situation
"Dad, what are you getting Ashley for her birthday?"
"Uhhh—she has birthdays?"
Ryan laughed. "That's funny." He was working on what he called a diamond painting. Homelander thought it seemed like a paint-by-numbers kit but with little sequins instead of paint. "I'm giving her a diamond painting. She saw one I did while I was in her office and said it was really pretty. Maybe she'll hang it up on the wall."
"That one?" Ryan was working on a picture of a bouquet of pink roses, applying the sequins with a straight-edge tool that allowed him to lay down several of them at once.
"No, this one won't be done in time. I'm giving her the one I showed her that she liked. It's a picture of a crescent moon inside the sun. Do you think I should frame it for her?"
"She might like to pick a frame herself. Why didn't you just buy her something? Didn't you have money?" Homelander had started giving Ryan an allowance after Ashley made an oblique remark that she might not think he recognized as a suggestion but he did. After he'd gotten over the irritation that made him snipe at her for the better part of three days, he'd realized it was a normal thing and his son needed normality in his life. That was one reason he'd started using Ashley as a babysitter when he was out doing the crime-fighting that took up less and less of his time. Ryan needed a female presence in his life, and Ashley was the closest he would get.
"Mom said the best gifts are the ones you make yourself, because that shows you were willing to spend time and effort on them, not just money."
Homelander made a noncommittal noise. He'd brought Becca roses once, to one of the expensive, generic hotel rooms he'd rented during their brief affair. They had been lavender, Sterling Silver he thought they were called, and she'd smiled at him and said they were beautiful. But maybe that was just her being agreeable, keeping him happy so she could get that precious supe baby out of him. He'd known the score but gone along because he'd been confident he was sterile; none of the groupies he'd banged had ever caught pregnant, and neither had Maeve. A remnant of the old pain twinged but he pushed it aside. Those perfect, pure supe children would never exist. What he had was the baby Becca had so longed for, and chances were good Ryan would be his only child. He had to play the hand he was dealt.
"So what are you getting her?"
"Well, I can't make stuff, buddy. I'm not creative like you are." Vought International had never encouraged him to concentrate on anything but the tasks that they set for him, things designed to make him a compelling hero, a desirable product to be marketed to the public. He'd had no rebellious instincts at the time—he'd thought it was all normal, for his own good. The truth had crept in on him much later. He'd had no choices but what they'd given him.
Ashley had talked him into enrolling Ryan in a Montessori school because she'd had suspicions that putting him in a structured school environment would lead to disaster. "And this is your business how?" he'd asked her, letting a displeasure he didn't feel leak into his voice.
"Because it'll be my job to clean up the mess if he freaks out and injures a bunch of his classmates, sir." He noticed she'd said injured, not killed. Maybe she was being delicate in not mentioning Stormfront. Would Stormfront have seen a need for Ryan to attend school? He suspected not, at least not if the school was integrated. "Look, he told me Becca had been tutoring him for most of his life. I had him tested on his curriculum. Math seems to be his weakest subject. He's reading at a seventh-grade level and his spelling is off the charts. Becca was teaching him Spanish and he seems to have a reasonable fluency. In Europe they don't start training a third language until high school, so there's time to wait on that. It would be a good idea to have him in a school where he can set his own pace, with guidance from the teacher. And a more relaxed setting will help him get comfortable with other kids. The isolation is probably why he reacts badly to crowds. With exposure to people, he could grow out of it."
"I never went to school with other kids," he told her, just to see what she'd say. It interested him that she hadn't backed off when he'd rebuked her. Did she care enough about Ryan to risk his anger?
"Your upbringing was—unique, shall we say. In addition to the things I've just told you, Ryan is also legally required to attend school, unless you want to home-school him the way Becca did. That's how they got around sending you to a school where you would have mingled with other kids." Made friends—the phrase was in her eyes. Learned how to be normal, or at least pass for it.
He'd tired of the conversation suddenly. The memory of his white room with the locked door sent a wave of distaste through him. "Fine, fine," he'd told Ashley. "Do what you want. Enroll him in some hippie school where they'll teach him macrame and how to roll a joint."
Ashley burst out laughing and seemed surprised by it. How many times had he heard her laugh? He could probably count them on one hand. "The school is not going to teach him how to roll a joint. If he wants to, he'll learn that on his own later in life. But they do have arts and crafts, music appreciation, that kind of thing. It's a private school, so they don't have to depend on state money and shut down subjects if there isn't enough funding."
"Does he actually need any of that?"
She stopped, choosing her words carefully. "He might have a talent for art, or music. Maybe something else. It's about him finding out what he's good at, what he might want to do. A lot of supes—well, they founder because they don't have any skills other than their powers. Look at Payback. If there are things he can do other than punch purse-snatchers in the face hard enough to kill them, he'll have more choices in life. He won't ever be desperate."
She'd gotten her way about the school because he knew she was right, but he'd never tell her that. And Ryan seemed happy there, learning more about geography and the French and Indian War and diamond painting. Ryan brought him out of his thoughts by saying, "I guess you could buy her something, if you can't make anything. A lot of people can't, so that would be okay."
"I could give her flowers." Madelyn had enjoyed orchids, which always struck him as amusing. Trust her to be original enough that roses wouldn't do.
Ryan wrinkled his nose. "I don't know if she likes them. And she might be allergic. That wouldn't be a good thing at the party."
Ashley was having a damn birthday party now? Why hadn't he heard about this? "Is it going to be a big party?"
"I don't think so." Ryan's tongue was planted in the corner of his mouth as he switched to a different tool and applied larger sequins to the pink rose design. "They're having it at the end of the day on Friday. Ashley told Maureen she didn't want anything big because that kind of fuss makes her uncomfortable. She said she wished she hadn't had to put her birth date on the job application."
"Then maybe we should ignore it, if she doesn't like parties?" Homelander knew Ryan wasn't going to go for that before the boy looked up at him reproachfully.
"It's her birthday, Dad. We're her friends. We have to go to her party."
He gave his son a big smile. "Sure we will, buddy. I was just kidding."
Ryan nodded. "She likes perfume. She never wears the same one twice in a row."
He'd noticed the same thing but hadn't given it any thought. Did she collect perfumes? He knew there were people who did. "But I might get her something she doesn't like. Or something she already has."
"That's true." He switched back to the old tool for smaller sequins and began on another section of the painting.
"Maybe she'd like a Keurig? For coffee."
"She has a Keurig in her office already. You want to get her something she doesn't already have, like with the perfume."
"Jewelry, maybe?" Diamonds had been his go-to gift for Queen Maeve when he'd fucked up. Stormfront—well, they hadn't been together long enough for him to find out what the perfect forgive-me present was for her.
Ryan nodded. "I've seen her wearing jewelry. That's a good idea."
Now Homelander had the problem of deciding what kind of jewelry to buy for Ashley. Diamonds might make her think he wanted something in exchange, but semiprecious stones might look like he was playing it cheap. Rubies wouldn't go with her hair and emeralds wouldn't go with her eyes. Sapphires would do, but did he want to get her a necklace or earrings or a bracelet? Not a ring—that would scare the hell out of her. Maybe not a bracelet either—she might think he was trying to put shackles on her. So a necklace or earrings it was.
"But you know she'll have to get you something for your birthday that's about the same value. So you might not want to get her anything really expensive."
Homelander hadn't realized that. "I thought she made good money as CEO." But now he realized that he didn't know her salary. He supposed he could look it up. He didn't want to make her buy him something as expensive as the sapphire necklace or earrings he was thinking about buying.
The boy shrugged. "I don't know how much money she has."
"Maybe get her something useful?"
"Don't get her household appliances. Girls don't like stuff that's practical. Mom said so."
Well, Becca certainly was a fountain of wisdom today. "Okay, I'll figure something out."
"And it has to be wrapped so she can open it for the party. Maureen said there would be cake."
"It's a birthday party. There's always cake."
"Do you think it'll be a regular cake or maybe an ice cream cake?" Ryan's eyes lit up with pleasure at the idea of an ice cream cake.
"It's an office party, so I think they'll have a regular one, so it won't melt. But we'll get an ice cream cake for you on your birthday."
"Thanks, Dad!" Ryan dropped the straight-edge tool long enough to give Homelander a quick hug around the neck before returning to his project. It was enough to make him feel warm and overshadow the problem of Ashley's birthday present, at least temporarily. He had three days to get her present. Surely that would be enough.
Homelander spent the next two days going back and forth in his mind about what would be the best present for her. He'd found a pair of sapphire chandelier earrings that he thought would look good on her, but he worried that the other women might think that they had a closer relationship than they did. Ashley took care of Ryan when Homelander wasn't available even though they weren't dating and he'd heard some gossip after she became CEO, when he'd used his super-hearing to gather intelligence, about people thinking she'd slept with him for the job. He didn't want to make it harder for her to get people to take her seriously, or hurt her reputation.
Maybe something more impersonal? Or maybe he should bite the bullet and take a chance on buying her a bottle of perfume that she already had. She could regift it to someone else if she didn't like it, but he just didn't want to get her something she wouldn't like, which was a problem because he didn't know her well enough to judge what she would like. Eventually, on the day before her birthday, he threw up his hands and ordered the sapphire earrings and something else that was more practical to be overnighted to him. Next year, he promised himself, he'd find out what she actually wanted so he wouldn't have to spend all this time worrying about it.
An hour before the party he'd decided to give her the practical gift, despite what Ryan had said about girls not liking practical stuff. Really, what did his son know about women at the age of eight? The whole business had discomfited him enough that he came into the party irritated. Damn her for having birthdays anyway.
It wasn't much of a party, in the executive break room with maybe a dozen people, a sad array of sandwiches on a table by the wall and a minuscule stack of presents on another table. Ashley didn't look happy herself, but he didn't know if that was due to the bad turnout or the fact that they had thrown a party for her that she hadn't wanted. The Deep and A-Train were there but looked uncomfortable, the way he felt. Who had been in charge of this party?
Ryan tugged at his sleeve. "Go put our presents over on the table, Dad. I'm going to talk to Ashley."
He did as instructed, a little amused at his son ordering him around, and wound up near the other two supes. "How long has this been going on?"
"Half an hour, maybe," said A-Train. "People drift in and out. This is the most I've seen since I got here."
"Did you get her anything?" asked Homelander.
"Yeah, a set of Mark Cross pens."
The Deep spoke up. "I got her perfume. I knew she'd been wanting this perfume called Fracas, so I bought her a bottle."
Homelander felt relieved that he hadn't gone with the perfume option, but also felt a little annoyed that the Deep knew what perfume she'd been interested in. How had that happened? Was something going on between them? He needed to look into that. His gift was about at the practicality level of A-Train's, but he thought he was closer to Ashley than that. The speedster didn't have any children that Ashley looked after on a regular basis. Maybe he should have gone with the sapphire chandelier earrings? Damn her for having birthdays!
Ryan was motioning at him to come over and he left without a word to either of the other men. When he got within a few steps of his son and Ashley, he broke stride in shock. She smelled…edible. He was sure she had never worn this perfume around him before. It smelled like vanilla and sugar and cream and her skin, but it made him want to eat her up like dessert. His body even started manifesting a response to it that he hoped she wouldn't notice. "So, uh, how are you liking the party?" Homelander barely concentrated on his words as he was too busy trying to suppress his physical reaction to the scent.
She gave him a halfhearted smile. "Also Ashley put this together at the last minute, but it was nice of her. I didn't really want a party."
"How can you not want cake?" Ryan exclaimed.
Her smile for him was a great deal brighter than the one she'd given Homelander. "When you're an adult, you can get cake whenever you want. If I want, I can buy a birthday cake when it isn't even my birthday."
"Don't give him ideas," he told her. "I've already promised him an ice cream cake for his birthday."
"You can come to my party too," Ryan said. "Even if I don't have a party, you can still come by for cake."
Ashley smiled again. "You can count on me being there."
Also Ashley did the thing where she struck a glass with a knife to get people's attention, which Homelander didn't like at all due to the sensitivity of his hearing, but he wouldn't ruin the party by killing her. "Listen up, everybody! Ashley's going to open her presents and then we'll bring out the cake!" A smattering of polite applause greeted the announcement. Homelander felt something unusual for him—second-hand embarrassment.
"Open mine first, Ashley," said Ryan.
"Okay, sweetie," she said. "Which one is yours?"
He tugged her by the hand over to the table and didn't have to dig through a pile for it; clearly, some partygoers had arrived empty-handed. Homelander wondered if she would rip into the wrapping paper greedily or remove it carefully and put it aside for later use. It was the latter, which Ryan didn't like as he fidgeted while she used her fingernails to pry at the tape. When she finally got it open and saw the sun-and-moon diamond painting, she flashed a brilliant smile at the boy. "You sneak, you remembered I said I liked that painting!"
"I sure did."
"Well, I'll have to frame this and put it up in my office. Thank you, Ryan. It's beautiful." She gave him a brief hug and dropped a kiss on top of his head. In that instant, Homelander could almost pretend that she was Ryan's mother and that he had a normal family. The next second he shook his head, the irritation flaring anew at Ashley for the entire situation.
"Do you want to open Dad's now?" Ryan didn't know what he'd wound up getting for her, and his uncertainty was obvious.
"Sure, sweetie. It's the other one in the silver and gold paper, right?"
"Yup."
He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he felt some anxiety about whether she would like the present. He should have gone with the sapphire chandelier earrings. Women like jewelry, not something that she'd actually find useful. She'd be smart enough for politeness, but she'd put the gift aside and pay no more attention until the party ended and it was time to gather up her swag and go back to her office. Why hadn't he just told Ryan he had something else to do and that Ryan should go by himself?
Ashley removed the paper from his gift in her careful manner and revealed a phone. "A cell phone?"
"It's a satellite phone," he corrected. "That way you'll never run into areas with no service and you'll always be able to use your phone to call someone. Like if your car breaks down or you get into trouble some other way. You can switch it over to your own number and I'll pay the first year for you."
Ashley turned the phone over in her hands, seeing the flag pattern of the phone's case, and smiled. "It's a very thoughtful gift, sir. Thank you." She leaned forward and gave him a quick one-armed hug, which resulted in him getting an even sweeter noseful of her intoxicating perfume.
"You're welcome. Say, what's that perfume you're wearing?" Thank God the hug had involved only the upper halves of their bodies.
She shook her head. "It's nothing expensive. Also Ashley just gave me something from Bath and Body Works."
Homelander moved close enough to her that his lips brushed her ear. "Get a second bottle of that, for when the first one runs out. I like it."
A shiver went through her that his sense of smell told him wasn't from fear and she stepped away, trying to make it look like something other than a reaction to him, and kept opening presents. Ashley seemed to like everything, but especially the perfume the Deep had gotten her. "Put some on," he said.
"I already sprayed on some from what Also Ashley got me. That would mess up the scent. I'll do it later, after the other wears off." The Deep and Ashley exchanged a look that Homelander couldn't read but which pissed him off. If there was something going on between the fishman and Ryan's babysitter, he intended to put a stop to it. Ryan was not going to have to deal with losing another mother figure.
The last gift opened was A-Train's Mark Cross pens, and then Also Ashley decided the cake could come out. It had been pre-sliced to guarantee that no one would pester the slicer for a bigger or smaller piece, and the cake itself was devil's-food, with fudge frosting. Ryan applied himself to his slice with gusto, but Homelander noticed Ashley only picked at hers. "Is there something wrong with the cake?"
She shook her head. "I just don't like chocolate very much."
"I thought all girls like chocolate."
"Only in the movies. I'll just take it back to my office to be polite." People were already leaving in ones and twos as the party sputtered out. "Unless you want it, Ryan?"
He cast his eyes down before looking up again. "You don't want the rest of it?"
"It's pretty rich," she assured him. "I couldn't eat another bite."
Ryan gave her a smile. "Okay, thank you!"
"You've got quite a sweet tooth, huh?" But he couldn't answer her as his mouth was full of cake. And Homelander didn't answer her, as he was breathing in the mingled scent of perfume and her skin. He might just have a bit of a sweet tooth himself.