Addict (SetoSolace)

BONUS

OK NOW IM DONE I SWEAR

Addict

BONUS

THREE YEARS LATER

"We need to have a talk."

I smile nervously at Danielle's parents, one of whom has her hand on her hip and the other of whom has his arms tightly crossed. "Of course," I reply, signaling for them to continue.

May Notch have mercy on me.

"It's about Danielle," her mother says, and I find myself wishing they would just get on with it.

"Yes..?"

The father sighs in exasperation. "She has a British accent!"

Brice snorts out a laugh before clamping his hand over his mouth, and I bite my lip as hard as I can. "... I see," I say after a moment of laughter-containment.

"This isn't funny!" her mother shouts.

"Yeah, man! Every time she says 'Mummy,' I get creepy Doctor Who flashbacks!" Jenny complains, groaning in discontent. "Can't you up the American just a little bit?"

Her parents, by now comfortable with the fact that I will not smite their daughter for sassing me (rather, I will simply sass her back), nod along in agreement.

"Gee, dude, 'm real sorry 'bout that. How about we all gather 'round a couple of flags and eat McDonalds and talk about politics together to try to get past this bump in our relationship?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

Brice has to leave the room because no one can hear anything over his laughter.

"Not enough?" I ask, sighing. "Fine. Uh, football, freedom, and homonyms. Dump the tea!"

Jenny has to leave, too.

"Also, Donald Trump."

Danielle's father chokes on his spit.

"First orange president. Absolutely, ten out of ten, would freedom again."

Jenny's mother sighs.

"... 'Merica."

She and her husband turn and leave.

"Thank you thank you thank you!" Danielle laughs, somersaulting out from behind the couch. "So can I be British?"

I shrug and pull her onto the couch next to me, and she laughs again. "You can, at the very least, sport the accent."

"Ew, sports."

I roll my eyes and push the girl off the couch, and she giggles as she jumps to her feet. "Where did you even come from?"

"Behind the couch, obviously!" she screeches. "I heard my parents were going to have a 'talk' with you about me saying 'bloody tea crumpets' all the time, so I came along for damage control."

I raise my eyebrows. "Damage control?"

"Yeah!"

"What, exactly, do you mean by that?"

"Um, okay, well- pretend you just told them you were actually going to cut down on the Britishness!" Danielle instructs me, running behind the couch again.

"All right." I clear my throat. "Yes, ma'am, sir. No more British accent. I understand," I say in my best American accent.

"BLOODY TEA CRUMPETS!" screams Danielle, flying out from behind the couch. "Seto, no! Never submit! You can be whoever you want to be, remember? Also, you're my favorite person! And your hair looks pretty today! And I love you! And your cloak is very, um, purple! And, and fitting! You look good! Now tell them I can be British!"