We'll Always Have London

Getting to Fro-Zone was the easy part. The girls and I chatted and then- much to the dismay of their already upset daddy dearest- I put on the "Frozen" soundtrack and belted out every song with my two favorite girlies. Now, I wasn't a terrible singer, in fact, I was pretty impressive when I wanted to be. Emphasis on "when I wanted to be." Singing in the car with my two monkeys to some of Disney's finest was not "when I wanted to be."

"Let it go! Let it go!" I sang elbowing Aaron who rolled his eyes but smiled a little, relaxing as I sang horribly off-key and twirled my hand in the air like Elsa, his daughters doing the same in the back seat. Aaron gave me a look, peeking from under the hand he had propping his head against the door, that small and amused smile on his face as he snorted and shook his head at me. I didn't mind being an idiot. My entire life people had told me how weird I was- how dramatic and over-the-top. I believe my mother used the term: theatrical. Which, to me, was the polite way of saying I was a basketcase. But hey, had I not been the weird kid who had no friends my parents wouldn't have signed me up for theater when we moved to England. I wouldn't have met Aaron. I wouldn't have been his friend. I wouldn't have Wylda and Romy, my sidekicks, my monkeys, my Igors, my little Ewoks- so I guess I wasn't going to change anytime soon.

Pulling up to the mom and pop ice cream parlor Aaron and I had claimed as ours when we first moved to LA, the girls climbed out and I hurried to get the door for them chanting, "We all scream for ice cream!" and pumping a fist in the air. Eli was working, he was the owner of Fro-Zone and especially loved Wylda and Romy. Eli was like a dad to me. My parents split when I was thirteen and I hadn't heard from my dad since- well he had been my stepdad but really he had been "dad" to me since I was three. Anyway, when Aaron and I found Fro-Zone, Eli took us both in like his own. Even gave me a job and for three years I worked there while going to UCLA. Now I was finishing up my degree and working with Guillermo del Toro on a future project, bringing Wylda and Romy to Fro-Zone like they were my kids and we were going to see grandpa.

Jeez where does time go?

Aaron was bringing up the rear, slowly shutting the door and shuffling to the door after the girls who raced to pick out their ice cream and greet the kind little Italian behind the counter. I smiled up at my friend who, despite his best effort, was only three inches taller than me.

"C'mon papa bear, don't be so glum," I said softly as I rubbed his arm. Aaron sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, glancing inside before ducking his head and speaking in a soft voice,

"It's getting bad, Abs. I don't- I don't even sleep in there anymore." I frowned and looked at him concerned. I opened my mouth to try and comfort him, but Romy's small voice called out,

"Daddy!" earning Aaron's attention. Romy was a daddy's girl through and through. There was no place that little girl liked more than her daddy's arms. She and I had that in common. Growing up, I spent a lot of time cuddled up to Aaron during childhood sleep overs and scary movie nights. Aaron was a safe place and when my parents started fighting a lot he was the one I hid behind. It was my turn to return the favor.

Aaron walked by me into the ice cream parlor, bending at the knee to catch Romy as she ran into his arms and he scooped her up. She couldn't see the ice cream, but neither could Wylda so I hurried my butt in there and scooped her up onto my hip so she could see the flavors. Romy picked on color and Wylda spent a good few minutes sounding out each name with help from me- namely me whispering the word in her ear not-so-subtly and Aaron giving me a playful look while I batted my lashes innocently.

"Excellent my little angel," Eli cooed proudly as he got the girls's ice cream. Wylda wiggled down and Aaron put Romy down so Wylda and her could pick a table. Wylda grabbed her and Romy's ice cream bowls and then shuffled over towards our usual booth. Aaron reach into his pocket for his wallet but I bumped my hip against his until he moved aside and then held a foot out to keep him away so I could pay. "Add a huge, ginormaous, totally dihabilitating chocolate brownie sundae," I said and Eli chuckled. He glanced at Aaron and teased,

"Two spoons this time, angel?" I quickly and playfully shushed him as Aaron arched a brow, a smile on his lips.

"Oh-ho! Eating our sundae with someone else are we, Abs?" Aaron accused as he wiggled his brows and grinned. I looked at him and rolled my eyes, calmly informing him,

"No dingus- I ate it by myself." I pursed my lips and cleared my throat as Aaron's brows shot up almost to his hairline and he grinned in astonishment.

"The whole- you ate the whole thing by yourself?" he asked emphasising 'by yourself' as if it would change my answer. It did.

"I plead the fifth and as I born American citizen- I don't have to tell you squat!" I started off dignified and mature- and ended with sticking my tongue out at him. Aaron laughed and pushed my foot off his thigh, stepping closer as I paid and Eli began making our sundae. Aaron looked over his shoulder to where Romy and Wylda were sharing ice creams, more at ease now that everything seemed to have settled. He looked back at me but I was busy watching the girls, smiling absently as they giggled between themselves.

"Thanks," Aaron said softly earning my attention. I blinked up at him.

"I don't know if you're aware, but I buy you ice cream like- all the time," I said rolling my eyes and shaking my head, "It's very ungentlemanly of you to-"

"No not for the- well yes for the ice cream but for- for taking care of the girls," he cut me off and I quieted into a more somber expression, looking at Romy and Wylda.

"Well- I kinda like them so I mean, I'm hoping if I stuff em with enough sugary sweets I will become their favorite person ever and they will help me conquer the Nine." Aaron rolled his eyes, almost a perfect imitation of his character Pietro in Age of Ultron making me grin.

"Alright, Lady Loki," he teased grabbing the sundae from Eli and leading me to the booth. "Just remember who fed you his pudding for a year because your mom put you on a no sugar diet."

"Heavens bless you sir Aaron of Jell-O Pudding, bless you and your sacrifice to my tastebuds."