Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy (JoeMazzello!JohnDeacon fanfic)

one hundred and eight

"How-it was right here."

John wanders into the kitchen to see Roxanne digging around in the fridge and he takes a seat at the kitchen table next to Isla, who's busy painting but she looks up at him with a bright smile, "Is mummy alright?"

"Mummy thinks she's going slightly mad," she admits, stating to pull everything out, "There was a full packet of cold meat in there this morning and it's gone. I was going to use it for lunch tomorrow."

Getting back up, John puts his hands on her hips, gently moving her to the side so he can have a look himself.

"This happened last week too. A whole pack of cooked chicken, gone. Honestly, John, I'm going daft."

"Well it's not there now," he concludes, taking the stuff that Roxanne had hauled out so he can put it back in.

Hearing a quiet giggle, they turn to look at their daughter, who though she's still painting, looks like she knows something that they don't.

"Isla," John begins, smile tugging at his lips, "Love, do you know where it is?"

"Maybe," she grins, legs swinging back and forth, looking the absolute picture of innocence.

He looks at Roxy knowingly, "Alright, missy, where is it?"

"Cookie please."

Both parents look at one another and Roxy leans in closer, "Is-is she bribing us?"

"I think she is, yeah," John nods, "Well, I knew that this would come sooner or later."

"She's four!"

"Have to say though, I didn't expect it to be you, love.Thought it'd be one of your brothers."

Isla holds out her hand expectantly, causing John to sigh and go toward the cupboard where they keep the biscuits and other sweet treats.

Isla eagerly reaches for it but just before she can grasp it, John pulls it out of her reach.

"Information first," he raises an eyebrow, "Where'd it go?"

"I saw Michael take it," she shrugs, eyes on the prize, "He went out into the garden, into the play tent."

"Michael?" Roxanne echoes, "Why would he take it?"

Right now, their six year old was going through a phase of doing everything that his Uncle Brian was doing so yeah, at the moment, he wasn't eating meat.

"Maybe he's caved?" John offers as she looks out of the kitchen window.

"Maybe," she nods, "Isla, is he still down there?" The little girl nods and her mum grabs her cardigan off the back of one of the chairs, "I'll go talk to him."

Though it was July, Roxanne still found that she was still chilly at night - something that John really didn't understand, especially when he was overheating at the best of times.

As she approaches the bright yellow tent, she can see (thanks to the lamp that's inside), Michael's silhouette and it looks as if he's reading.

Out of the five children, Michael is definitely their quietest. While he will sometimes join in on the chaos that his four siblings bring -you just have to look at Fight House to see that-, he's definitely happier when he's on his own reading a book or colouring in in.

So she doesn't scare him, Roxy taps on the wooden post that's holding the front part of the tent up, "Knock-knock?"

"Hi, mum."

"Can I come in?"

Instead of giving her a verbal reply, she hears the zip being undone but he foesn't quite open the doorway, "Please don't get mad."