rodrikstark's headcanons (part 2)

f. adler + learning new hairstyles for mary

"am i supposed to go over, or under?"

you squint at the image on your laptop: a 3/4 view of the back of mary's head. off-screen, you imagine frank, his body twisted uncomfortably so it doesn't block the camera, her hair wrapped around and between his fingers. "under."

"really?"

simultaneously, you and mary sigh: "frank."

"we're gonna be late," mary whines.

"okay, okay." he brings the strand in his right hand underneath the tangle of blonde hair, continuing the braiding pattern until he reaches her ends. mary offers him the beige hair tie pinched in her fingers.

you'd given him brief hair tutorials here and there, mary seated on the floor doing math homework while you two stayed on the sofa, hunched in concentration over her tiny head. but those times frank tended to pick up where you left off. today, he was completely on his own.

mary reaches back, rotating so frank's work comes into full view. she pats it hesitantly. "is it terrible?"

you chuckle. "no, it's good." slightly uneven from side to side, but not noticeable unless someone was looking hard. "not as good as i would've done, though."

mary turns and giggles. "what would frank ever do without you?"

you sigh. "say thank you, mary."

she stands, revealing her girl scout sash and all its patches, then hugs her uncle. "thank you, frank."

"go put your shoes on."

mary scurries to her room as frank picks up the laptop, resting it on his chest and slumping on the couch. the sigh that leaves his lungs is big enough that the computer shifts a little. "hi."

"i miss you."

"i miss you too."

if only you could teleport through the video call and run a soothing thumb across his creased forehead. "next business trip, you and mary will come with me."

his eyebrows raise for a second. "or maybe just me, and we leave her with roberta."

briefly, you lift your gaze to the bland, generic photograph hanging on the opposite wall of your one-bed room. earlier in the day, when you checked in and dragged your suitcase inside, you had imagined what frank would have said to make fun of it. something dry, but it would've made you laugh.

you look at the screen again. "frank adler," you scold, settling deeper into your crisp, white blankets, "what on earth would we do, alone in a hotel, without your darling niece?"

he laughs. "i can think of a few things."

"only a few?"

distantly, mary calls out and lets the screen door shut behind her. frank blinks hard a couple of times: exhaustion, you'd guess. "gotta go," he says wearily. "thanks for the help, sweetheart."

"i miss you."

"you said that."

"i know, but." you smile. "i really do."