Choices We MakeAuthor/Artist: decadentdreamCharacters: Bianca
, Chrystal & Patrick HalliwellRating:
Belongs to Spelling Entertainment and all other associated people. I take full right to Bianca and her kids and um the future life that won't be *sobs*Summary:
Chrystal comes up with a little solution to stop Patrick disrupting her.Word Count:
Chrystal skimmed over the page of the book settled in her lap. Hearing a clatter, she leant forward and looked around the edge of the armchair. Her little brother was perched on his hands and knees on the floor, a fire truck in his grasp as he stared back up at her. Sighing audibly, she sank back into the plush comfort of the chair and turned the page. Again the clatter started – reverberant and pacing as Patrick continued crawling around the chair and towards the open doorway, the metal and plastic fire truck banging against the hardwood floor with every movement. Placing the book aside, she shifted off the chair, standing over him as she picked him up and placed him back at his starting position. Sitting back down, she gave him a look of warning before resuming her reading, believing he was content to suck on the corner of the truck. Barely a minute had passed before she heard the clattering once more. Patrick was again retracing his path past her towards the door. Growling irritably, Chrystal refused to move from her position again to stop him. She lifted her hand, his little body wavering in the air before she telekinetically moved him to the side and dropped him in the laundry hamper. The lid closed over the top of him.
“Chrystal, turn the TV down!” Bianca shouted from the adjoining room.
“I’m not watching TV, I’m reading!” Chrystal yelled back.
Bianca appeared in the doorway and saw that Chrystal was doing exactly as she said she was. Placing her hands on her hips, Bianca carefully scrutinized the room.
“What was all that noise?” Bianca asked.
“Patrick,” Chrystal replied without looking up. Bianca inspected the room with an austere eye.
“Where is your brother?” she asked slowly. Chrystal shrugged.
Taking a few steps in, Bianca surveyed the area in search of her youngest son. Finally reaching the hamper, she fastened her hands around the edges preparing to lift it. She had barely moved it off the ground when she heard a soft tapping. Dropping it in surprise, she shook the sound off as a figment of her imagination before picking the basket up again. It was much heavier than she remembered it, even if it was filled to the brim with clothes. She heard a muffled wail and again placed the basket down, opening the lid this time to see Patrick sitting atop the pile with a fire engine clutched in his little hands. She lifted him out and placed him on her hip, wiping the tears from his face as she checked him over. Reassured he was fine, she turned back to her daughter.
“Chrystal,” she reprimanded. “How did your brother get in the hamper?”
“I dunno. Maybe he orbed there.”
“Don’t give me any of that cheek, young lady. I know both your brothers have a habit of orbing themselves into dangerous situations but Patrick’s not going to go where he’s confined.”
“He was noisy, and he kept taking off,” Chrystal complained.
“Don’t you think the ideal place to put him would have been the bassinet then? What if I hadn’t found him? He could have been seriously hurt. And daddy and I would have been very upset if we thought he was missing.”
“It’s not my fault he keeps running away,” Chrystal argued. “If he wanted to get out he would have orbed out like he always does. Why do I have to be in charge of him?”
Sighing, Bianca switched Patrick to her other hip. “I didn’t put you in charge, I just asked you to keep an eye on him while I made lunch.”
“I did,” Chrystal said stubbornly, folding her arms.
Bianca saw this conversation would soon be going around in circles with neither of them willing to back down. It was difficult to argue with someone so much like herself.
“Don’t try to make things more difficult for me,” Bianca scolded. “Since I’m carrying Patrick, you can take the hamper and help me with the washing. Then I’ll let you finish your book.”
“Okay,” Chrystal grumbled, sliding off the chair. She wrinkled her nose up as she fastened her hands around the hamper. “Ew, it stinks.”
“Well you put him in there. I’m not surprised he made a mess.”
“This is a bad punishment.”
“I know,” Bianca said. “But now you’ll learn not to hide your brother away when you’re irritated with him.”