Early evening

Tired from his long day, Justin quietly shut the door behind him in the foyer.  Sighing in relief over being home, he slid off his well-worn coat and pulled his scarf off, opening the closet to grab a hanger. Hanging the jacket up and wrapping the scarf around the neck of the hanger, he shut it back just as he heard two familiar voices drifting through the house. Justin smiled, knowing exactly where Andy and Brian would be. Every evening, the inseparable pair spent quite a bit of time sitting on the couch together.  Feeling that same sense of contentment he always felt at the thought, Justin softly tread closer to the couch, stopping just behind it.  Sure enough, Brian and their daughter were sitting together, Andy in Brian's lap, with some sort of magazine in front of her.  Grasping one page in his long-fingered hands and balancing it on his knees, Justin watched as Brian leaned forward to softly speak in the little girl's ear.

"Okay, Sunny Girl, now say it back to me.  Prada."  

"Pwada." 

Justin stifled a laugh as he heard Brian softly sigh.  "That's a good try, Andy, but not quite." He pointed to a photo on the page. "Praaa..da." 

"Pwaaaaada."  Justin bit his lips as Andy clapped her hands in glee.  "Pwada!"  She squealed loudly.

Brian stuck his tongue in his mouth.  "Close enough. We'll work on that one later. Try another one."  He pointed to another place on the same page.  "Burberry." 

"Blueberry.  Blueberry!  Daddy makes good blueberry pancakes! Can we have blueberry pancakes for dinner?" 

"No, Sunny Girl," Brian said, sighing again.  "I'm sure Daddy will make you some for breakfast tomorrow.  But this word isn't blueberry. It's Burberry.  Buuuuurrrrberry.  Can you say that?" 

"Burrrluuueeee...berrry." 

"Aaaaargh...." Brian took a deep breath.  "Okay, I see we'll have to do a lot of practice," he told his daughter as Justin once more muffled the laughter that was threatening to erupt from him. 

"One last one," Brian told Andy, sensing that the little girl was quickly growing tired of their 'lesson.'  "Can you say Gucci?" 

"Goosey!  Quack, quack!"  Andy clapped her hands again.  "Daddy Bwyan, can we have a goosey to keep in the bathtub?" 

This time, Justin couldn't help laughing out loud at the look of exasperation on his partner's face.  Brian peered back at him, startled, before his face reddened in embarrassment. 

"Brian, you know I couldn't care less what Andy wears."  He walked around the couch to face the pair.

Brian covered their daughter's ears in horror.  "Sunshine, you failed at fashion conversion therapy a long time ago, but it's not too late for our daughter." 

Andy's face lit up in recognition.  "Daddy!" she yelled so loudly that Brian winced.  "Daddy!  Daddy!"   She jiggled up and down in Brian's arms as she reached out her hands toward Justin and beamed a lookalike smile at him before he pulled her into his arms. 

"Mwah!" he exclaimed after he gave her a noisy peck on the lips.  "Mmm...have you had a cherry popsicle, little girl?" 

"Uh, huh," Andy said with a nod. 

"Well, you look awfully clean for someone who's been eating a cherry popsicle," he observed.  "That's unusual."  He knew how messy Andy could be when she ate; she was by no means a dainty little girl.  Brian always razzed him that she had inherited his 'appetite gene.'  She DID have a robust appetite, but she was by no means fat; in fact, she was such an active girl that she could eat copious amounts of food while remaining slim. She resembled Brian more in frame than he; she was even taller than most toddlers her age.

"That is when she is under your tender loving care, Sunshine," Brian explained with a smirk, standing up to give Justin a brief kiss on the lips.  Andy made smacking sounds before Brian gave her a smooch as well.  "And here I thought you knew how to use a bib from Gus's toddler days."  He paused for a moment.  "You do remember him flinging Jell-O all over the place in the diner, right?" 

Justin grinned at the recollection.  "Yeah, I think I remember that a few times.  But at least he was wearing one of the plastic bibs from the diner.  Not a bib from Burberry." 

"Blueberry!"  Andy exclaimed, triumphantly sticking one hand up in the air in front of her.   

"Tomorrow, Sweetheart," Justin promised.  "For now...let me go see what I can round up." 


"We're having steak, pardner?"  Brian drawled.


"Ha, ha.  Probably more like leftovers." 


"But you know how much I love your meat."  He curled his lips under as Justin promptly blushed before smacking him on the arm with a smile.


"Behave!  Can you set the table and put Andy in her highchair?" 


"Does Daddy Bwyan need a time out?" 


Justin laughed.  "Not this time, Honey.  But if he keeps it up, I might have to give him one." 


"Oh, I'll keep it up, all right," Brian promised with a leer. 


"Brian..."


Brian held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, Sunshine. Come on, Sunny Girl.  Let's go wash your hands for dinner."

Brian's nose crooked upward in disdain as he surveyed Justin's choice of leftovers.  "Spaghetti?" 


Andy clapped her hands as Justin brought the large bowl of pasta with meat sauce and mini meatballs over to the table, along with a tossed salad to join them. 


"Pisghetti!" she exclaimed in delight.  Besides Cheerios, it was one of her favorite foods.   


"Yeah, you got THAT right. I'd like to piss on it myself."
 

"Brian!"
 

"What?"  He bestowed an innocent look on his face as Justin shook his head.


"You do know how quickly she picks up on things."  He explained, "It's whole wheat spaghetti.  If you can't force yourself to add a few carbs to that body of yours, then have a heaping bowl of salad with that greasy, sodium-laden liquid you squirt on it." 


Brian scoffed.  "If you mean Italian dressing, you know I can't help it. Deb practically bottle fed it to me when I was younger." 


"And here I thought you preferred breastfeeding." 


"I only suck on your nipples, Sunshine."


Justin rolled his eyes at him.


Andy's legs jerked spasmodically in uncontained excitement as Justin placed a bowl of cut-up spaghetti in front of her on the highchair tray, along with a piece of garlic bread. "There you go, Sweetheart," he cooed at her with a smile as he placed a "Daddy's Mini Me" bib around her neck.  "And we'll make sure you give Daddy Brian a big, sloppy, garlicky kiss after you're done eating."  Justin chuckled at Brian's horrified expression as Andy continued to kick her legs like a frogman in training.


Brian used the wooden tongs to scoop up a generous amount of salad and place it in a bowl, opting to spoon a small amount of spaghetti with just the marinara sauce onto his plate.  He peered over at Justin, who had a heaping mound of spaghetti with sauce and meatballs on his plate, along with a piece of garlic bread and a salad topped with a generous amount of French dressing in front of him.  Rewarded with a smirk from Justin, he picked up his fork to stab some of the salad with Italian dressing and prepared to place it in his mouth, only to hear Andy shriek with delight as she grabbed some of the spaghetti in one fisted hand and threw it with glee at Brian.  The deftly thrown lob landed squarely on Brian's linen napkin as he let out a startled gasp and involuntarily jumped back from his chair.  "What the fuck?  You almost hit my Armani shirt!" 


"Brian...language?"


"That's all you're worried about?  This is a $300 shirt!"


"And it's covered with a $5.00 napkin!" 


Andy giggled and continued to kick her legs as she reached back inside her bowl and grabbed some more spaghetti, this time cramming some of it into her mouth and leaving a marinara-laced smile on her face before clutching more pasta in her hand and launching another assault.  This time it landed right on Brian's forehead as marinara sauce hit his hair and began to slowly drip down his face.  He blinked in shock before grabbing the only untouched corner of his napkin he had and using it to wipe as much of it off his face as he could. Andy grinned widely at her father in proud accomplishment.


Brian sighed as Justin tried without success to stifle his own chuckle.  "Sunny girl...what am I going to do with you?  As your biological child, Mr. Taylor, I expected better table manners from her," he dryly commented as he peered over at Justin.


"Well, she's got good aim. We could have a star softball player in the making."   


Brian sputtered as another glob of marinara sauce landed in his hair.  Andy once more clapped her hands in self-congratulation. 


"Now, now, Honey.  Daddy Brian doesn't need any of your spaghetti.  He has his own.  Go ahead and eat yours with your spork, okay?  You remember how to do it."  Justin twirled his fork around some of the pasta before lifting it a few inches from the plate.  "Like this.  Do you remember?"


Her hand - and face - smeared with sauce, Andy reached for her spork and stabbed a meatball before successfully sliding it between her lips to chew it several times before swallowing it.  She raised her hand toward Justin in triumph like the Statue of Liberty holding her torch. 


Brian grabbed a spare napkin lying nearby and wiped his mouth before scooting back from the dinner table.  "Now that the entertainment is over, I'm going to go take a shower."  He peered over at Andy and shook his head.  "Want me to go get you the umbrella?" 


Justin chuckled.  "Very gallant of you, but I'll take my chances. " 


Brian shrugged.  "Well, there's a poncho in the closet.  But then again, anyone who practically lives in paint-smeared clothing all the time shouldn't be bothered by a little spaghetti sauce."  Rolling his lips under, he smirked as he turned to head toward the bathroom, only to feel something thump against his back.  Quickly turning around, he noticed one of the couch's pillows lying next to him.  "Life father, like daughter."  He hesitated for a moment before walking back to the table.  "Come on, you little budding Picasso. You might as well get cleaned up with me." 


After Andy had been born, the loft's bathroom had been redesigned to add a marble seat to the shower - some outrageously expensive contraption like a booster chair for a toddler that came with a seatbelt - so Brian or Justin could give their child a bath as they showered. They used a handheld rain-shower head to wash her, and Andy loved it.  To Brian's consternation, Justin had immediately rushed out and bought bath crayons made from beeswax for Andy, so she could write on the shower walls while they gave her a bath.  Despite his affirmation that it would encourage Andy to write on other walls, as usual he had given in to the little girl who had stolen his heart and the crayons now held honor in a plastic pail next to her seat. 


"Brian, she's not some dead rat you're throwing out by its tail," Justin quipped as he handed Andy over and watched as the other man held her at bay by clutching her under her arms several inches away from him. 


"I'm not going to drop her," Brian retorted.  "I'm just...protecting my investments."  He scrunched up his nose.  "Smells like someone has shit somewhere other than on her hands.  Uh, Sunshine..."


"Don't you 'Sunshine' me. Having a daughter means experiencing ALL the joys of fatherhood.  Besides, I wouldn't want to deprive you," he added as Brian snorted. 


"Okay....But I'm going to remember this the next time you want YOUR ass washed." 


Justin's laughter drifted across the room as  - with a sigh of resignation - Brian held his daughter more closely against his body while he carried his precious cargo toward the bathroom, knowing there would be a trip to the dry cleaners in the near future.


Justin thought he heard Brian mutter something about 'those damn baby blues' before the two disappeared from sight.