The Magpie's Death

More Than Friends

"Then you bake at three-fifty for thirty minutes or until the top is nice and golden brown!"

Michelle had her hands spread, pressed against either side of Sam's waist. Her head hung beside his shoulder to watch as he finished filling the pan with cheese-covered macaroni. The high-pitched, airy voice carried loud into his ear and he could feel her breath brush against his skin.

"Easy, right?"

After two weeks of her flirting and touching, he had given up on pushing her away. He tried to hint that he wasn't interested many times, but she either didn't understand or didn't care. It was possible she didn't notice. Subtlety wasn't something he was skilled in and he worried being too blunt would ruin Ellie's friendship. Instead, he overlooked the behavior, focusing on the reason he was there. To let his daughter play with her friend, to expose her to a more normal life, and to learn how to be a better parent.

The woman was at least good at that, helping him with everything from potty training and fixing hair, to playing games at home, to cooking and nutrition. Since he was avoiding work for now and trying to limit his exposure in the community, he found himself with a lot of free time. He spent many nights in this small apartment.

"While that's baking, I think I'm going to take a shower." She slid her hands away and he used the freedom to lean over and put the food in the oven. "Looks tasty."

Based on the playful way she said it, he was certain there was some innuendo he was missing, but he ignored it. After setting the timer, he headed over to join the girls. This was his favorite part of the night. Watching his daughter play.

Even coloring, the difference between the two friends was obvious. While Becca grabbed any color she liked, sometimes scribbling wildly over the page with no concern for lines and shapes, Ellie was meticulous. She tried to match colors to real life. When she wasn't sure, he would hear a frustrated "Dada," asking him for help. At first, he assured her it didn't matter, but that only received a low huff in response. Now, he showed her the most accurate colors to use. It only took a few times for her to remember. With careful movements, she tried her best to keep everything inside the lines, getting aggravated when she made a mistake.

Spending time like this, in this type of atmosphere, Sam learned many things about his daughter. He discovered she liked quiet activities best, like reading and coloring. She wasn't interested in technology the way other children were. Aside from Becca, she found others irritating at best and was happy to ignore anything or anyone she didn't find interesting. When she did try new things, control was important and success was the goal. She stubbornly pushed through her frustration until she was satisfied. And above everything else, helping around the house was her favorite. As long as Sam was doing it, she wanted to do it too, and she could follow most directions with little explanation.

He also learned things she didn't like, number one being Michelle and her constant touching. Ellie's facial expression never changed, but her eyes would glare and she would place herself between Sam and the woman. If Michelle was helping with something, Ellie would try to help instead. She rarely had tantrums anymore, but it still made her unhappy, and Sam usually welcomed the interference.

After thirty minutes of coloring and a few minutes of waiting for the food to cool, he fed the girls their dinner, then started packing up.

"You're not staying?" Michelle asked, pouting as she returned from her shower. She wore only a thin tank top and high-cut sleep shorts, with her wet hair wrapped up in a towel. It was suggestive and probably appealing to someone other than him. "You should stay for a glass of wine."

Sam shook his head as Ellie helped him pack, keeping her wide eyes firmly on the woman. "It's getting late."

"Such a shame. We'll do this again Friday? I'll show you how to make lasagna."

With a nod and a quick goodbye to Becca, Ellie giving her friend a small wave, he scooped his daughter up and headed out the door. He was genuinely grateful for the woman's help and Becca's friendship, but he could only take so much.

A short walk through town later, they entered the large, Victorian house. Ellie wriggled out of his arms to race over to Jack. He crouched down to greet her, giving her a quick kiss on the head, then stood and glared at Sam. It was yet another look he couldn't read, making him pause in the foyer.

"What?"

"'What?'" Jack asked back, as if he should know the reason he was glaring. Sam's chin dipped and he sighed, his expression softening. "Nothing."

"What?"

It was so confusing. This wasn't the first time he had been greeted this way, with a glare and no explanation. Jack didn't seem angry about his rejection anymore, but he wasn't friendly, and the two didn't talk the way they did before. Not that there was much opportunity, since Jack was busy with guests and business during the day and Sam spent many nights out.

"Really. It's nothing." It wasn't nothing, but there was no reason to argue about it. "Have you eaten?"

"Yeah. Michelle taught me how to make mac and cheese."

"Of course she did," Jack spit bitterly at him and returned his attention to the desk. "You spend a lot of time over there."

Sam nodded and handed Ellie her small backpack. After directing her up the stairs to the room, he leaned against the wooden counter. He didn't know why, but he was eager to tell Jack what he was learning and how the girl was changing. He missed having conversations with him.

"It's helpful. I'm learning a lot. Michelle's a good mother and Ellie seems to be opening up more."

"I'm sure." The same tone, now accompanied by a small frown. "She seems nice, and you two seem to get along well."

What? Sam tried to meet Jack's dark green eyes, but he looked away, focusing on the computer instead. "Why did you say it that way?"

"What way?"

"I don't know. That's why I asked."

This whole situation was frustrating. He realized he had made a mistake and sex probably made things awkward, but how long would it be like this?

Jack shrugged and sighed again, this time sounding a little resigned. "I just mean it's good you get along. A girl should have a mother."

"What?" That comment didn't make any sense. Sam huffed, quickly growing annoyed with the direction of this conversation. "Are you saying I'm not good enough for her? What does a mother have to do with anything?"

Jack finally looked at him, confusion replacing the scowl. Sam didn't care. If this was how they were going to speak to each other, he was finished. He headed up the stairs, his footsteps heavier than usual, and turned to his room.

Things already put away and bag sitting neatly on the chair, Ellie met him with a book in her hand. Big, blue eyes shined as she shoved it at him. Scurrying over to the bed, she climbed up and patiently waited for him to join her.

Pushing his frustrations away, he held it up. "You need to take a bath first."

She shook her head and he blew out a laugh. Another new development in the past few days. Defiance. "If I read a book, then it's time for bed. Do you want to go to bed this early?"

Her head shook again, slower this time, then she reluctantly slid to the floor. Shuffling over, her eyes were smaller on that blank face, so he took her hand with another light huff.

"Since there's time, we'll read two before you go to sleep, okay?"

Ellie looked up at him, eyes wide again, and he tossed the book onto the bed. Finn was right. He really was a big softie.