Howdy folks, just Meg here jumping on the ficlet series bandwagon. Bear with me :P

(Sorry tumblr friends, you've already seen this first one, just getting it out of the way)


"Just a liiiiittle bit…"

Leaning in the doorway, Maura watches her wife's strong hand steady their daughter's pudgy little one, pouring out a dot of blue paint. She's nervous for her kitchen table, despite the generous amount of newspaper laid out as a precaution.

"Look, like Mama," Jane says, pressing her own hand to the big white sheet of paper and carefully peeling it away, leaving behind a bright blue print of those long, slender fingers.

The child on her lap does the same, making a smaller, smudgy print and giggles happily when Jane praises her.

The blue runs out, and her little girl leans far forward to grasp the bottle of red paint. Which Jane never outright hides during projects like these, but usually puts way at the back where it's less likely to be chosen.

She hands it to her mother and outstretches her little palms, waiting for a dollop to be poured into them, and then makes more small red prints on the paper.

"More!" She pats her mother's wrist. Jane cooperates, dabbing red on her palm and making another big print at the bottom of the paper.

Then Jane's busy tearing off some paper towels, and Maura sees what's happening before she does. The little girl is poking her index finger in the middle of all her handprints.

"Whatcha doin'?" Jane notices.

"Look like Mama," she repeats happily, touching the faint dot already in the middle of one of Jane's prints.

For a few moments she makes loops on the paper, and when there isn't enough paint left on her finger and the trail goes dry, she finally notices her mother has been quiet. She twists around to look curiously up and backwards, apt to lose her balance and topple over, if it weren't for the guard rail of her mother's right arm.

The corners of her mouth deepen, and her little hazel eyes make the same shape her mother's do when she's trying to figure you out.

"Why sad Mama?" Before she can answer, a little hand closes carefully around a tendril of dark hair to pull her mother's face down lower. "No more sad," she instructs with a kiss to the cheek. Jane smiles. Instantly satisfied that she's fixed her mother, she turns back around to check on her paint.

"Thanks, baby." Jane kisses the back of her daughter's head.

Maura steps in, applauding their work and inviting her daughter to the kitchen sink to wash up, suspecting Jane could use a moment alone. Before the soap is even rinsed off, she's squirming to go play with the doll she just remembered, hopping off the stool and scampering to her room before Maura can even catch her to dry her hands.

"Are you alright?" Maura asks, coming back to the table with a wet paper towel and dabbing the flecks of paint out of her wife's hair.

"Yeah." Jane looks down at the colored handprints with dots in the middle, eyes still glassy and palms still red. "Is this the sweetest thing ever, or something I never wanna lay eyes on again?"

"It's the sweetest thing ever." Maura bends down for a moment, kissing her softly on the lips. "No more sad."

Jane smiles faintly, resting her head against her wife's side.