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The sound of a party popper going off met Connor the minute he pushed open the door to his room. Not that he immediately understood what that was. Not yet, at least.
It was early morning, which made this strange noise and the presence of Hank even more surprising. So surprising that he stopped right in his tracks, silently watching pieces of multi-colored paper float down onto the ground and land across his polished shoes. Hank was smiling lightly, like he knew something Connor didn’t.
“Happy Awakening Day” he said.
Connor stood awkwardly, unsure of what to say, but ended up catching up rather quickly.
“You mean..like my birthday?” he cautioned.
“Yeah, whatever you wanna call it”.
Hank shrugged, looking torn in between continuing to stand there and walk off towards the kitchen. It became glaringly obvious to Connor that this hadn’t been a thoroughly planned escapade, which was a little strange, considering he couldn’t recall the Lieutenant owning a plastic pipe loaded with rainbow scraps before today.
“Okay” Connor noted.
Hank looked a little thrown, Connor noticed. They both said nothing for a while before Hank began to walk off. Connor blurted out “Where’d you get that little cylinder with,” he hesitated “the little papers?”
Hank’s face flushed as he mumbled out a reply.
“I uh, found them under the sink. Yeah.”
“Oh.”
Hank cleared his throat.
“Breakfast?”
“Alright” Connor conceded. Hank turned fully towards the kitchen, and Connor followed in quick succession. He couldn’t help but sneak a glance back at the funny paper scraps on the floor. He’d have to clean those up later.
“I told Fowler that we were taking the day off,” Hank commented, sounding far too casual. “I mean, in case you wanted to do anything”.
Connor stopped short again.
“Why?”
Hank shot Connor an accusing look, though he knew it to be one of those looks he gave when asked a question he didn’t know how to answer. It was more flustered than anything.
“Maybe you’d want to – I don’t know – celebrate your big day.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” Hank groaned.
They’d reached the kitchen table. Connor lingered near his usual wooden chair and Hank was fumbling aggressively with the coffee maker.
“I don’t see the need to go anywhere. I like the police station” he stated officially. It was true, but Hank’s mood didn’t improve in accordance with his honesty.
“For Christ’s sake! Ok-” He closed his eyes, mocking a patience that wouldn’t last. “Well then. Is there anything that you want?” his eyes were back open, bearing a pleading look, “Anything at all?”
Connor paused, feeling apprehensive. What popped into his mind wasn’t something he’d chosen willingly.
“The rainbow blaster”
“What?” Hank shouted.
“...That…paper tube.”
There was a clear show of bewilderment taking over Hank’s face.
“You mean the party popper?”
Connor appealed “I guess so”.
Hank gave him a deadpanned look, to which Connor stared innocently back. Hank’s eyes softened. Without saying anything, he moved towards one of the miscellaneous kitchen drawers in the house and pulled it open. A few seconds later, he’d unearthed a dozen more party poppers and set them tactfully onto the table.
Connor moved from his spot. Bending closer than strictly necessary, he studied the ‘party poppers’ with sincere concentration. Once they’d been deemed as safe to touch, he picked one up from the table and held it between him and Hank. The string dangled lifelessly from the rest of the red plastic.
“You pull it and the confetti shoots out,” Hank explained gently.
Connor didn’t waste any time. He pulled the string hard from its red counterpart and startled when the pop rang out in any instant.
A parade of confetti was raining down from the ceiling. It twisted as it fell, dancing with gravity until every one of them met with the floor. Connor smiled, filled with both astonishment and jubilation. Hank was already picking up one of his own and Connor didn’t flinch this time when it went off.
“I can’t believe-” Hank started as the confetti fluttered down.
Connor set off another.
Hank responded by taking a blue party popper as quickly as possible.
The exchange rapidly transformed into a competition. It was spontaneous, completely preposterous, but, one after the other, or perhaps at some point both at the same time, the party poppers were cleared from the table until all that was left was a sea of confetti that blanketed every surface in the kitchen.
When the last piece of confetti brushed upon the ground Connor looked wide-eyed up at Hank and without skipping a beat inquired:
“More?”