Cold Truth
Jun. 26th, 2010 12:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dorksidefikerTitle: Cold Truth
Author:dorksidefiker
Fandom: Runaways
Table/Prompt: Table 1/18. True
Character/Pairing: Frank Dean, Leslie Dean
Rating: PG
Word Count: 203
Summary: “Like you actually care.”
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: I own nothing.
“Like you actually care,” Frank muttered mutinously as the door shut and Leslie began peeling herself out of her old uniform. His wife stopped, using the mirror to look at him and allowing him to get a good look at her tight lipped expression. She finished stripping out of the uniform, which had clearly become too tight over the years, despite all of Leslie’s best efforts. Self consciously, Frank thought of the greying hairs that were becoming the bane of every make up artist he worked with.
“She’s my daughter,” Leslie said flatly.
“Knowing you the way I do, I know how little that actually means to you.” Frank dropped into a chair, resting his cheek on his fist.
“Well,” Leslie said, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “I’m not going to abandon her, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ve invested too much time and effort for that.”
Frank found that statement oddly comforting. As cold as the words were, he knew she was speaking the truth.
Author:
dorksidefikerFandom: Runaways
Table/Prompt: Table 1/18. True
Character/Pairing: Frank Dean, Leslie Dean
Rating: PG
Word Count: 203
Summary: “Like you actually care.”
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: I own nothing.
“Like you actually care,” Frank muttered mutinously as the door shut and Leslie began peeling herself out of her old uniform. His wife stopped, using the mirror to look at him and allowing him to get a good look at her tight lipped expression. She finished stripping out of the uniform, which had clearly become too tight over the years, despite all of Leslie’s best efforts. Self consciously, Frank thought of the greying hairs that were becoming the bane of every make up artist he worked with.
“She’s my daughter,” Leslie said flatly.
“Knowing you the way I do, I know how little that actually means to you.” Frank dropped into a chair, resting his cheek on his fist.
“Well,” Leslie said, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “I’m not going to abandon her, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ve invested too much time and effort for that.”
Frank found that statement oddly comforting. As cold as the words were, he knew she was speaking the truth.