DCP Sir ❤ I Luv U (Completed)

Bonus 3

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Ram's Baby Chick 🐤 and Mythu's Rakshashi 😈

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The morning sun filtered through the curtains of the Ramachandra household, casting a golden glow over a home that had grown significantly noisier and much more colorful over the last four years. The minimalist, sharp aesthetic of a bachelor DCP's house was long gone, replaced by the warm, slightly cluttered charm of a family man's sanctuary. 

Scattered across the rug were stray Lego bricks, a stray dupatta, and a very suspicious-looking plastic tiara.

In the kitchen, Mythili was in her element. She moved with a practiced grace that had only deepened with motherhood. Clad in a simple cotton house-saree, her hair tied in a loose bun, she was busy tempering the tadka for the chutney. The sizzle of mustard seeds and the aroma of fresh curry leaves filled the air. 

For a rare five minutes, the house was silent.

It was a trap. She should have known.

In the world of the Ramachandra's, silence was the precursor to a tactical strike.

Mythili reached for the salt, her back turned to the kitchen entrance. Suddenly, a small, authoritative voice—a pitch-perfect mimicry of a certain DCP's commanding tone—shattered the quiet.

"Hands up, Amma! Move or I fire!"

She startled, actually jumping a few inches off the ground as she whirled around. Standing in the doorway was the four-year-old whirlwind of chaos known as Maitreyi Ramachandra. 

A perfect biological fusion of her parents: she had Mythili's expressive, doe-like eyes and radiant skin, but her smirk, her stance, and that defiant sparkle in her eyes were 100% DCP Ramachandra genes.

The "Little Rakshasi" was dressed in her pajamas, but she was armed to the teeth. In her small hands, she held a bright neon-orange toy gun, her tiny finger resting firmly on the plastic trigger. She had her feet planted wide, her chin tucked, exactly like she had seen her father do during target practice.

"Maitreyi!" Mythili clutched her heart, her breath coming in short bursts. "You scared the life out of me, rakshasi! Where did you come from?"

Maitreyi didn't break character. She narrowed her eyes, just like Ram did during an interrogation. "Quiet, suspect! You are under arrest for... for... making upma!"

Mythili couldn't help it; she burst out laughing. "Upma is a crime now? Your Nanna(dad) eats it every Wednesday!"

"Nanna is a hero. He can eat anything." (dad). Maitreyi declared, finally lowering her weapon but keeping a stern face. "You are coming with me to the Police Station (the living room sofa). No excuses!"

"What is this commotion here?"

A deep, vibrating rumble of a voice came from behind Maitreyi. Mythili looked up, and her eyes softened instantly. Standing there was the man who still made her heart skip a beat after five years of marriage. DCP Ramachandra stood leaning against the doorframe, his hair slightly tousled from sleep, wearing a simple grey t-shirt that stretched over his broad shoulders.

"Nanna!" Maitreyi's entire demeanor shifted. The hardened 'officer' vanished, replaced by a squealing, ecstatic little girl. She dropped her weapon—literally—and bolted toward him. (Daddy!)

He caught her mid-air, hoisting her up with one arm as if she weighed nothing. He buried his face in her neck, making her shriek with laughter as his stubble tickled her. "Officer Maitreyi, is the suspect cooperating?"