Author's Note: I'm nearly out of stories to post D: Need to do a lot of writing today to make up for it.
Mica held onto her little cousin's hand and kept an eye on the other one, all the while waving to the plane in the hope that her uncle could see them. Belle tugged her hand free and wrapped her arms tight around Mica's wait, sighing heavily. "Mica, Tad's going to bring Dad back, right?"
"Of course he will," she assured her, brushing back her unruly curls and smiling down at her. "They'll be back before you can miss them."
"I already miss them," Andrew told her quietly, reaching out for Belle's hand. "C'mon, Belle."
They made their way through the airport and up to the car park. It was raining, as usual, and Mica had forgotten to grab her coat in the rush to get Ianto to the airport, so she hugged her arms to her chest to try and warm herself up, resigned to throwing her hoody over the radiator when they got back home. Belle's long, dark hair was soaking by the time they reached the car because she wouldn't put her hood up, and she reached for the front passenger door when Mica unlocked the car. "Belle, back seat."
"You're not old enough," Mica cut her off and glared, grateful that Andrew was getting into the back without needing to be told. "Don't start now, please?"
Belle pouted a bit but got in the back as she was told, grabbing the remote for the radio before Mica could get it and sitting back with a smug smile. She strapped herself in without having to be told, though, and set the radio onto Radio Two, which Mica could live with. It was Jack's favourite station, anyway, and Mica wasn't going to begrudge her that comfort when he'd been gone so long. It had seemed like a normal operation, the sort that Jack would come back from complaining of sunburn and midge bites and teams who weren't responsive to his flirting; but then he got kidnapped by aliens, and it all went a bit wrong.
Ianto, of course, had flipped out completely. He was renowned as the sensible one of the family, with the exception of Alice, who was as down-to-Earth as her father was alien and flighty, but if Jack or the kids got injured then all bets were off. He turned into something between an avenging angel and a mother hen, and a source of mild amusement for anyone not standing between him and his loved ones. Mica wasn't stupid, and she'd heard her mam and nan talking about post-traumatic stress disorder when they thought that she was in bed a few years ago. All they could do was help him in any way they could and be there to catch the eventual crash.
Their new house was on the edge of Cardiff closest to the airport, facing out over the city that Jack had protected for so long, but distant from it now that he didn't work in the city every day. It was a big house, built from coal money during the Industrial Revolution, but it had been in a dire state when they bought it and had needed a lot of rebuilding work. So far, they'd got the west wing up to living standards, and were still arguing about what to do with the rest of the house; Jack had the support of almost every family member and friend in his arguments for a pool and games room, but Ianto's argument that they should have offices for practical purposes also held water.
Mica parked in front of the house, away from the trees, and got out to hurry into the house up the sweeping marble steps. She remembered to disengage the alarm, but fumbled the door lock. Belle giggled at her and she faked a glare, shouldering the door open and nearly falling into the marble-floored hall, struck once more by the opulence of the place. "Your dads..." She shook water off her fringe and realised that she was dripping on the floor. "They don't do things by halves, do they?"
Andrew shook his head. He was already pulling his coat off and heading for the closet under the grand, sweeping staircase. "That would be Dad. I think he wants to own most of Cardiff."
"You could have stopped with 'that would be Dad'," she pointed out as she followed him. "Belle, coat off. And both of you upstairs to change into something warmer. In the cupboard, Belle, not on the bannister."
Belle stuck her bottom lip out, but did as she was told. Andrew was already on his way up the staircase, and leaned over to stick his tongue out at them. "First one back downstairs gets to choose the movie?"
"No fair!" Belle shrieked, nearly deafening Mica. She threw her coat at the hook and hurtled towards the stairs after her cackling brother. Mica sighed and hung the coat up properly before she followed them. Her room was the main guest bedroom at the end of the hall, but even from this distance she could hear her cousins yelling to each other. She rolled her eyes and folded her hoody, then placed it over the radiator and wrapped her dressing gown around herself.
Andrew and Belle thundered past and down the stairs and she poked her head out of the door. "Watch yourselves on the stairs!" she bellowed. "I don't want to have to tell your tad that you've broken your neck." They yelled their replies and she rolled her eyes, grabbing a towel for her hair. "Kids these days."
When she got downstairs, sketchpad and pencil case in hand, Belle was in the middle of the sofa with her arms folded and Andrew was going through the DVD cabinet. He smiled at her with a half-frown of thought and looked over his shoulder at Belle. "Come on then, Belle; help me decide?"
She beamed and bounced off the sofa, scurrying over to hug her brother and study the DVDs. "Lion King?"
"Well..." Andrew trailed off, and tilted his head, whilst Mica grabbed a pencil and tried to sketch them quickly whilst they weren't watching. "I don't know."
After a pause he nodded and reached for the catch. Mica smiled to herself, knowing that he'd capitulated because it was a Disney film without a princess, and because Jack liked it. Belle bounced back to the sofa and scrambled up to kneel next to Mica. "Push off, squirt," she muttered. "Watch your film."
"It's not started yet," she pointed out, even as the TV screen came on. "Will you plait my hair?" Mica pursed her lips and Belle covered her mouth as if she'd sworn. "Please will you plait my hair?"
"I'll do it when I've finished this," she promised. "Now sit down properly."
Andrew came back to the sofa and wrapped his arm around his little sister, pulling her to rest her head against his shoulder, and she snuggled into him, arms around him and curls draped over his shoulder. They were utterly adorable, and Mica wished that she and David had been like that, but Belle and Andrew took after their parents and she and David took after theirs. It was sullen arguments again at the Davies house, which was why Mica was at the Harkness-Jones house, where it was almost always chocolate cake and freesias because they reminded Jack and Ianto of Guernsey and roses made Ianto sneeze. It was a happiness that maybe David and Steven had found, for all that they were more likely to sit on opposite ends of the sofa playing video games than next to each other watching films, and one that Mica longed for. Having been a witness to it for so long, she didn't think she could settle for less.
She finished the sketch and set it aside, beckoning to Belle. "Plait your hair?" she offered.
Belle grinned at her and kissed Andrew's cheek before she scrambled over to Mica. He wiped it off with a wry smile and settled back into the sofa with his legs swinging, eyes fixed on the TV screen. Mica's fingers slipped through soft, damp curls, and she snuck a cuddle. They were family, her family; the best family in the world.