Letters to Lou *Larry Stylinson*

Age 10

"This is Agent Darcy calling in. Are you there Agent Styles?"

"No."

"That's Agent Darcy to you. Your career's riding on this, Agent Styles. Do you want to lose your job?"

"Yes."

"Papaa! Why aren't you playing along?" Darcy huffs, popping up from behind the kitchen counter. "How can we save the Uncles if you won't behave?"

"First of all," Harry says, crawling out from under the kitchen table, "Those stuffed animals over there are not your uncles. Secondly, I won't mind if they get kidnapped anytime soon."

Darcy gasps in admonishment, before crossing her arms. "I'm telling the Uncles you said that."

Harry shrugs. "Eh, they feel likewise."

Darcy huffs again, this time storming to the living room phone. Harry watches as Darcy dials in a few digits, bringing the phone up to her ear. Three rings echo through the house before someone picks up.

"Hello? Yes, this is Darcy. Yes, everything is okay. No, Papa's fine. More than fine, actually. In fact, I called to tell you that if you were stuck in an abandoned warehouse with Uncle Niall and Uncle Zayn, Papa wouldn't want to save you." Darcy pauses. "Even if Papa was a super agent with super powers, he said he wouldn't save you."

Darcy nods for a few moments, before giggling into the phone. "Love you too, Uncle Li." She says, before setting the phone back down.

"Well?" Harry questions from his place on the kitchen floor.

"Uncle Li says likewise."

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"Agent Styles, do you copy?"

"Yes, I do."

"Yes I do Sir!"

"Yes I do Sir." Harry grumbles, his knees aching from kneeling in the coat closet all day.

"Okay, I'm going to penetrate the base-"

"You mean my room?"

"Get your head out of the clouds, Agent Styles! This is no time for blibber blabbering!"

"Copy that." Harry sighs into the walkie talkie, regretting deeply of ever buying that thing.

"Okay, good. Now I'm going to barge in, and if it is empty, I will say 'empty.'"

"How clever of you." Harry mutters.

"Do you want this job?"

"No."

"Too bad, I'm barging in."

Harry winces as he hears the wood of his bedroom door crash into the wall behind it, no doubt chipping the paint.

"Empty!" Darcy whispers, as if it were a surprise. If the room hadn't empty, Harry would have been deeply disturbed. On que, Harry eases open the closet door and crawls out towards his bedroom. Once past the door, he sees the chip in the wall and sighs, before crawling to where Darcy stayed hunched behind the bed.

"Agent Styles! I've found crucial evidence!" Darcy exclaims, as Harry crawls over to where she crouched. Harry's stomach nearly did a tumble as he saw what she grasped in her hands.

The contents of the old shoe box from under Harry's bed were sprawled across the carpet, including an old squeezy bottle and a couple of familiar red packages.

"What is this stuff?" Darcy exclaims wide eyed, staring at her hands. To Harry's horror, Darcy played between her fingers the oily translucent substance from the bottle.

"Now, now Darcy, we do not play with that stuff." Harry chuckles nervously, whisper all gone. Darcy pouts, making Harry feel very hypocritical, since he definitely played with that stuff.

"Aw, come on, Papa! I finally discovered something new in this house!" Darcy objects, but Harry tosses the items back in the box before Darcy can "discover" the red packages.

"Well, why don't you wash off, and I'll show you something you've never seen?" Harry barters, succeeding as soon as he sees the glimmer of curiosity in Darcy's eyes.

"That a girl, Dar Dar." Harry says, as Darcy skips off to the bathroom. Sighing, Harry peers under the bed to the very middle, where a thick leather book lay. Reaching as far as he could, Harry dug out the dusty book just as Darcy ambles back into the room.

"I'm back!" Darcy singsons, and Harry jumps on the bed, patting the spot next to him. "What's that?" Darcy asks, and Harry grins.

"It's a photo album." Harry says, as Darcy's eyes widen.

"We have a photo album?"

"Well," Harry says, opening to the first page, "It's of my life before you were born. It has Uncle Liam, Niall, and Zayn in here too."

"And Daddy?" Darcy questions. Harry swallows.

"Yeah. And Daddy." he murmurs.

The two of them flip through each page, laughing at a picture of Harry wearing his mother's bra and another of Niall stuffing his face with mashed potatoes.

Finally, there's the picture Harry knows is in the back of the album. As soon as he turns to the page, his grip on the book tightens, and Darcy takes notice.

"We don't have to see the ones with Daddy, Papa." Darcy says softly, gazing up at Harry. Harry meets her eyes, and chokes back a sob at how much Darcy has grown.

"Let's go do something else. I wanna bake a cake!" Darcy says, bouncing up and down on the bed. Harry chuckles.

"Well, lucky for you, I used to be a baker." Harry says, easing off the bed and tucking the book back next to the shoebox.

"If you ever want to see pictures of Daddy, though, don't hesitate. It's okay to miss him." Harry says, as Darcy leads him to the kitchen.

"I love you, Papa." Darcy chirps, as she tugs out the sack of flour from the closet.

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"What is this?" Harry asks, eyebrows scrunched in concern. Darcy stares back innocently and grinning.

"It's my letter to Daddy this year. I put in one of those red packages 'cause it was part of the shoebox of fun."

"Shoebox of fun?" Harry choked. That's it, he's never playing Spy Agent again.

Sorry, this chapter was kinda rushed. I'll revise sometime, I swear! But, if you see anything I should correct, please do tell! And, if you are on this chapter, then WOAH. I love you :)-Clayla