Birds, Bees, Boys, Girls, and Dead Squirrels

Saturdays were the best days, in Kit Walker's opinion. He was off work, for one thing. No greasy transmissions, dusty brakes, or stubborn oil filters. No complaining, impatient, entitled customers. Fucking glorious. For second thing, his kids were home from school, and they were always a joy. Quick to laugh. They kept him busy. No time to dwell on...past stuff. For third thing: Jude.

He couldn't explain it. The last few weeks had been amazing. She was just so much better. Whatever weird shit had gone down with Thomas and Julia that day... Well, it didn't matter. Because what had been given to them was this strong, loving, vivacious, smart, funny, altogether incredible woman. Plus, she could cook.

In fact, he was watching her cook now. Watching her teach his son to cook, actually. Pancakes. The sight of Thomas standing on that stool, whisk in a giant bowl, his sister on tiptoes offering 'helpful advice' was the best way to start a day.

"Look here, Thomas. Loosen up yar grip on that whisk. It's not gonna sprout legs and run off." Jude corrected his little fingers and Julia snorted laughter, which blew a generous plume of flour all over Thomas and Jude.

"Dammit, Julia!" Thomas admonished.

Jude cuffed him lightly. "Watch yar mouth! Yar father will find out where ya learned that language and I'll be out on the street." She lifted her skirt, shaking flour onto the already well-floured rug and Kit's smile screwed up a little.

For fourth thing: Jude's legs.

He rubbed his face. He had to stop looking at her that way. It was getting ridiculous. Jude was... Sister Jude. She was a nun, once. She was like the favorite aunt who'd come to stay. She washed his underwear, for Christ's sake. And mended his clothes. Fed his kids. Doctored all the boo boos (his and the kids'). Hell, on Wednesday, she'd fixed the chunk of broken lattice on the front porch.

He needed to remember to think of her those ways. Not...sex ways. Not legs, tits, hips, and that mane of curly gold hair. Not coy grins and flirty pokes in his belly. Not 'accidentally' peeking through the crack in her bedroom door and using the reflection from the dresser's mirror to 'accidentally' see through the crack in the bathroom door while she toweled off after her bath.

Cuz that was all just...wrong.

He rubbed at his face, looked up at Julia's sudden burst of laughter. Jude was smiling patiently, wiping wet batter from her face and cleavage. Thomas was red-faced and embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Jude."

She took the whisk, kissed the boy's forehead. "Its alright, sweetheart." She passed Julia the whisk. "Let's let yar sister have a turn, huh? I'm uh...going to change. Kit?"

He waved at her from the table. "I got this."

"Uh-huh." She ruffled his hair as she passed. He watched her sway into her room.

"Dad! Look how thick it is now!"

"Oh, yeah! Julia that's...um...." He rose to inspect the bowl. "That might be too thick, there." The batter was now a sludge.

"I thought it was too runny." Julia smacked the goop. It barely moved.

"I told you it's s'posed to be thin," Thomas groused over the counter edge.

"Shut up, Thomas!"

"Hey! Don't tell yer brother ta shut up." Kit rubbed the girl's head. "That's not nice."

"He called me turd monkey yesterday!" Julia defended. "And that's not nice either!"

"Well, no it's not." Kit turned to his son. "Thomas, did ya call yer sister turd monkey?"