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"Shit." Arthur stubs his toe on the chest.
Hopping on one foot he tries to balance his daughter with one hand and stop the mug from spilling in his other.
You'd been sick with the flu for a couple of days, and he was taking care of Tris alone. You had started to feel better this morning, but he insisted you rest, ensuring you that he could take care of everything alone.
"Shit" a small voice giggles in his ear.
"No..." Arthur's eyes widen in panic, quickly he places down the mug. "No...no no no no." He sits on the bed and places his daughter on his lap, seeing her wide eyes staring up at him with curiosity. "Don't say that sweetheart, that's a bad word."
"Shit." She giggles, clapping her hands together and bouncing up and down, thoroughly enjoying the new word, "Shit shit shit."
Arthur scrubs his face and rakes his fingers through his hair.
"C'mon Tris, work with me here." He pleads.
"Daddy says shit too!" she grins and points at him.
He groans and drops his head back, having no clue how to handle this. The realization hits him that he had taught his daughter her first curse word at the bright young age of age of two and a half. He may as well shoot himself now because you were going to kill him.
Understanding that bargaining with a toddler was useless he decides to switch tactics, employing something that he never had the heart to do.
Strict parenting.
"Tris enough!" his voice isn't as loud as it could be, but it is deep and authoritative, making her jump and instantly fall silent.
Arthur's eyes widen in surprise. "Well shi-ugar." He catches himself.
What had you been complaining about? This parenting business wasn't so hard. He'd seen Tris misbehaving with you, refusing her food, or running away when it was bedtime, you had complained to him a number of times about always having to be the 'bad' parent while he got to be the 'fun' dad. But he would never admit that he was a sucker for her big blue eyes and that she had him wrapped around her little finger. Arthur had shot and murdered people, blown up banks with dynamite, but one wide eyed look from his daughter was all it took to turn him soft and have him galloping around on all fours like a horse for her.
Maybe he would tell you about this later, brag to you that he had been able to be strict. Maybe you would even reward him if you were really feeling better. Reaching over for his mug he smirks to himself wondering what all your fussing had been about.
Taking a sip of his coffee he scans the group of books on the bedside table, deciding which story he would read for her.
"Hey sweetheart what do you...?" he notices her lip begin to quiver. "No... no no Tris." He begins to panic, his heart breaking at the sad look spreading across her face. Desperate to take it back, he begins to apologise. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-."
But it's too late.
Taking a deep breath, she tips her head back and lets out an almighty wail, her tiny lungs using all their power to issue the shrillest sound he's ever heard. When she begins to run out of air she sucks in another breath, her bottom lip flickering in and out with the movement of her sobs.
"Shit Tris. Damn, I mean- Shit, sweetheart, please stop. I'm sorry okay, please just stop crying." He lifts her up, rocking her against his chest in the way she loved, a trick that normally would send her off to sleep, but instead, she continues to wail, her tiny fists balling and pounding against his chest.
"Hey hey hey, look here." He reaches back and plucks a teddy from the bed, waving it in her face but she only wails louder, her cheeks streaked with tears and her nose dribbling with snot. "C'mon kid, you love Ted."
He tosses it over his shoulder and picks up her comforter, a small pink quilt Tilly had sent as a birthday present last year. He places her back on his lap and drapes it around her shoulders like a cloak, bouncing his knee. But still, she continues to wail, her face reddening even more.
"Jesus I'm sorry okay, please just stop crying." He places her on the bed and begins searching around the room for things to distract her, reaching into her trunk he finds a wooden wolf Charles had carved and brings it over to her.
Kneeling by the bed he makes the wolf hop along the bed and up her leg. "Mr. Wolfie wants you to stop crying, Tris."
She continues to cry but she reaches for the wolf. He holds his breath, feeling hopeful until she pulls it from his hands and launches it over his shoulder, letting out another almighty scream.
Dropping his face into the mattress beside her he grumbles into the bedspread. "Robbin' trains was easier than this."
"Everything okay? Jesus the hell did you do to her?" John peeks around the door and stops in his tracks when he sees the scene before him.
Tris noticing his presence only screams louder, and Arthur glances over his shoulder.
"She won't stop, how'd you make it stop?"
Tipping his head back John begins to laugh, witnessing a deadly retired outlaw on his knees at the mercy of his toddler.
"Are you going to help me or what?"
"God no this is too funny."
Feeling frustrated Arthur picks up Ted and launches him at John but he catches it, turning it around and smiling at the fuzzy bear's face.
Suddenly there's silence.
Whipping his head around, he realizes she's stopped crying and is instead staring at her uncle who holds the teddy in his hands.
Slowly raising his hand, he motions for John not to move, "I think she's done." He whispers, not daring to breathe.
The pair remain stock still, staring at the toddler as if she was an unstable stick of dynamite. Tris tilts her head still staring at her uncle John. She sniffles and rubs the back of her hand across her nose. With the slowest movement, he can muster Arthur pushes himself up, his eyes never leaving his daughter's.
With tear-stained cheeks Tris matches him, pushing herself up on the bed to sit on her knees, staring at John she makes a grabbing motion with her hands.
"She...she wants the teddy bear, give her the teddy bear John." Still facing Tris, Arthur slowly begins to back away with his hands held up, the moment feeling tenser than any bank heist he'd ever been through.
"Sure, here you go kid." John tosses the teddy underhand and Arthur's eyes widen as the teddy sails past him, hitting Tris on the shoulder and bouncing to the floor.
Within seconds the room erupts once again in Tris's cries and Arthur rushes to pick her up, scooping up the teddy on the way.
"God damn it you idiot!" he growls at his brother over his daughter's ear-piercing screech
"Sorry, I thought she'd catch it!"
"She's two!" Arthur throws the teddy, this time with more force, hitting John square in the face.
Once again, the room falls into blessed silence, and Arthur whips his head down, to see Tris once again staring at John, only this time he can see the beginnings of a smile nudging the corners of her mouth.
It's then he gets and idea...
"Throw me the teddy back."
"What so you can yell at me again?"
"Do it." Arthur easily catches the teddy and without looking launches it back at John's face.
Tris sniffs but her lips curl into a grin, her cheeks dimpling in the way that Arthur loved.
"Give it back." He holds out his hand for John to toss it back.
"You think I'm dumb?"
Not wasting any tiny Arthur bends down and picks up a rubber ball and whips it at him.
"The hell Arthur?" John ducks just in time.
Tris begins to clap her hands and giggle her eyes not leaving John.
"Here I think she likes that." Bending down once more he gathers up as many soft toys as he can with his free hand, "You like when I throw things at Uncle John huh?" he launches one of the toys but John catches it.
"Oh, you're going down brother."
Chaos soon descends as the pair begin launching toys at each other across the room, Arthur ducking and spinning with Tris on his hip. All the while she laughs, giggles, and squeals with excitement at the new game.
"What on earth are you two doing?" You duck into the room just as a stuffed rabbit bounces off the wall beside you.
You take in the scene, two grown men breathless and holding stuffed animals like weapons, while your daughter cradles the rest of your husband's 'ammo' on his hip.
"Turns out our daughter has a penchant for violence," Arthur smirks, tossing the toy in his hand at John.
"Shit Arthur my eye." John whines.
"Says shit too." Tris points at her Uncle.
You whip your head around. "Did she?"
Arthur's eyes widen in panic as he stares at his daughter.
"Shit." She giggles once again.
You clap your hand over your mouth, unsure whether to laugh or to be mortified.
"Shit-I'm mean sugar, I'm sorry, I didn't think." John scratches the back of his neck.
"Seriously John, you know what kids are like for picking things up," Arthur grumbles, quickly realizing he can pass the blame.
"Shit."
Arthur places a finger to his lips, "No sweetheart that's a bad word."
Giggling again she points up at her father, "Daddy say shit too. Daddy say shit too!"
"Traitor." He hisses, looking up at you sheepishly "M' sorry it just slipped out."
With your hands on your hip, you roll your eyes, "Seriously Arthur?"
Clearly enjoying herself now Tris moves her finger over to you and looks you dead in the eye. "Momma say shit too!"
You gulp. What a god damn traitor your daughter was.
"No darling Momma doesn't say that."
"Momma say it in kitchen" she smiles, turning her head between you and Arthur.
"Oh she did, did she?" Arthur smirks at you with his brow raised stalking his way over slowly like a predator.
"No, she's mistaken I said uh...ship." You pathetically try to defend, backing out of the room.
"Ship hmmm?"
He looks over you, his free arm snaking around your waist and drawing you close so he can whisper in your ear. "I can tell when ya lyin' darlin'." His breathe tickles your ear and you resist the urge to shudder. He presses his lips to your neck and whispers against the skin, "and for lyin' you can change our daughter's diaper because she just ship."