Always His Baby

Chapter 18
Ever After

Chapter Description: The final chapter.

"Ta." Sheridan gladly takes the mug of steaming hot cocoa handed to her, the sweet scent already tickling her nostrils; "Mmm. I need this."

Her dad gives her a nervous smile before sitting down on the other end of the sofa with his own cup of tea.

"You know, even though you’re my daughter and you’re underage, I’d understand if you wanted something stronger." He says, trying to keep the mood light.

Sheridan smiles over her mug; "Never thought I’d say this but...hot chocolate’s enough for me tonight. So long as it’s the Galaxy kind."

"You’d kill me if I bought anything else."

"Not kill. Just...maim a little bit." She comments, waiting for the beverage to cool.

Sheridan is sat on the sofa, still in her magic-enlarged nightie, except now along with her fluffy blue dressing gown with the pink star pattern and some equally cuddly slipper boots keeping her feet warm. After the transformation from baby back to teenager she feels woozy. Almost jet-lagged. There’s a part of her that still feels desperate to curl up in a soft blanket and be rocked to sleep once she’s had her warm drink.

Dad is looking anxious. He’s clearly waiting for the fall-out. For the eye of the storm to pass and everything to come crashing down on him. It’s inevitable. He’s not the only one who had expected it when...if they got to this stage.

"I’m surprised you’re not throttling me at the moment." He admits, bashfully.

"Give it time. Getting used to being able to use opposable thumbs properly again."

"Sheridan..."

His tone is pressing. He doesn’t want her to feel the need to pull any punches. Just to get it over with.

She puts her mug down on the dining room table where just fifteen minutes ago there had been a play matt littered with teddies and baby toys. Now they’re gone along with the high-chair in the kitchen and the nursery upstairs where, Sheridan has checked, her old bedroom has returned. Complete with her double bed, make-up table, laptop and posters of Tom Hiddleston. For all any stranger who enters would know, there hasn’t been a baby in this house for a very long time.

Except the two who live there now that’s not true.

"If you think I hate you, I don’t." She says, first of all; "I thought I did. I know I was angry with you. More than I’ve ever been with anyone. I thought you had done this to punish me."

"No. It was never that." Dad assures her. "All I wanted was-"

"For me to be happy? You said. I heard." She shrugs. She doesn’t mean it to sound so hollow as she repeats it. It’s just difficult to reconcile her feelings now in the aftermath of so much madness.

There’s a brief, rather painful silence.

"I know it doesn’t make it right." Dad sighs, rubbing his forehead. "Even if it wasn’t what I wanted, I should have stopped it from going on long before. But, every now and then, you would get so happy. When you’d smile it made me realize how I’d missed seeing that look on your face. I thought it was what you needed...what you secretly wanted."

Sheridan scoffs a bit; "Sure it was great fun. When I wasn’t being publicly humiliated at a friend’s party, or having to mess myself and wait to be cleaned up, or breast-fed by Aunt Steph."

"Wait, what-?"

"Don’t ask." She waves him off, not wanting to relive that again; "Bottom line, it’s not easy being so little and having the mind of a teenager. Kids don’t realize how lucky they are. They can be as silly and smelly as they want and not care what anyone thinks."

"You don’t need to care what anyone thinks." Dad reminds her, putting on his rare ’wise’ tone.

"So you’re suggesting I start wearing nappies to school to make a statement?" She gives him an off look.

Dad chuckles; "No, I think that would be going a bit too far. But you do tend to wear too much make-up and do what other people tell you just so they will like you - when I know it’s not what you want. If they need you to be a certain way to like you then they’re not real friends and you deserve better."

Sheridan smiles thoughtfully and looks down at her hands. She’d thought that Dad had been doing exactly that. Making her his sweet little girl because he didn’t like the woman she was growing into. But that wasn’t it at all. She heard what he said; about how her age wasn’t important, so long as she was happy. Really happy. Not faking or putting on a front to impress others. Dad loves her. Unconditionally.

He must do or else how else could that kiss have worked? Who else, really, could have given it to her in the end? It’s for that reason that she’s finding it so hard to be angry with her father.

"See, Dad...this is what I needed." She explains, reaching out to touch his hand; "Just you. Talking to me like I’m a person."

"I try to talk..." He begins, looking confused.

"No. You shout. You nag. Or you butter me up with money or treating me like a kid. It’s not that I don’t love you being sweet to me. It can just...get a bit claustrophobic sometimes, that’s all." She tries to explain, not wanting to hurt him; "But things like this; me and you on the sofa with hot chocolate, talking about real stuff...I’m always going to want that. I’m always going to need that."

Dad takes in what she says and, thankfully, gives a nod.

"I know I’m overbearing and a bit overprotective. I’ll try to work on that, I promise. It’s only because I love you so bloody much." He says, squeezing her fingers.

Sheridan smiles; "I know. I love you so bloody much too."

"Don’t swear."

"Hey!" She protests, pouting playfully when she sees him grin. "Har har."

She reaches to take a sip of her cocoa, giving a hum of enjoyment. That feels better already, the warmth seeping down her throat all the way to her fingers and toes. Bliss.

"Anyway. It wasn’t all bad." She confesses, not all that shamefully; "I really was happy a lot of the time. Kids do get to have a lot of fun. I forgot how much. And when I did get scared or embarrassed...you gave me a cuddle and I would just forget everything there was to be upset about. I knew I didn’t need to worry about anything because...you were there."

"Ivy said a strong father-daughter bond would be needed to complete the wish. To get you to want to be my little girl again and believe it. I guess it wasn’t that powerful to work all the way."

"It wouldn’t be if lies and magic tricks are going to be involved." Sheridan says, wiser than her years.

Dad’s eyes sparkle for a moment; "True. But you can always count on a cuddle from your daddy to make everything better. No matter how old you get. You don’t even have to ask."

"Don’t worry. I’ll remember." She promises, sipping more of her cocoa; "I’ll always remember what you do for me, Dad. How you’ve always taken care of me, mostly on your own. A part of me was starting to wonder if there was a good reason Mum left us...if you pushed her away and it was your fault she didn’t want me. But I know that’s not fair. You stuck around and you raised me. I know I don’t make it easy for you."

"You’re my teenage daughter. That’s your job." Dad winks; "To drive me absolutely bonkers."

"Same goes for dads, right?" Sheridan smirks.

"’Fraid so, Princess. I’m afraid we’re stuck this way for now. At least until another several months when you’re free to move out if you want."

"I’m in no rush." She gives him a look, hoping that says all she needs to on the matter. I forgive you. You’re a pain but I forgive you.

Dad seems to get it; "Sure?"

"I’m sure." Sheridan nods. "I’ve got a lot of teenage angst to pay you back with after what I’ve just been through."

"That’s fair enough."

Right now, however, Sheridan doesn’t feel any angst. She looks into Dad’s warm eyes looking back at her and she just wants to melt again, right there, on the sofa. She wants to curl up on his lap and watch some lovey chick film that he hates but will grin and bear for her sake. She wants more hot chocolate but her cup is almost empty.

That, she supposes, she’s allowed to refill herself. The other wishes she realizes probably wouldn’t be appropriate now. It was just lovely being so small. Not too small, not a baby, but when she was a bit bigger. There was a benefit to being little and feeling so secure and safe in nurturing arms. She could get a hug from her dad now, she knows, he just said so, but she knows it wouldn’t be the same as when she was a child - as lovely as they still would be. Maybe later. Atmosphere is a bit tense right now.

"So what now?" Dad asks as the silence threatens to linger.

Sheridan shrugs; "I dunno...I’m thinking Chinese?"

"Pardon?"

"Chinese take-away? Movie night, maybe?" She suggests, feeling so snug on the sofa right now after her cocoa; "You can pick for once. I’ll even watch one of those boring Western movies you like. I’ll probably fall asleep through anything half-way through, might as well be something rubbish."

Dad narrows his eyes for a moment. But he doesn’t reach for the drawer of take-away menus or the phone.

"How about, instead, you go out?" He says, pointedly; "I know your friends probably want you to meet them in town. It’s Friday night, you don’t have to be indoors babysitting your old man when you’ve got better places to be."

Sheridan blinks. She wants to ask if the genie gave her dad a lobotomy. Or replaced him with a shape-shifter.

But she is tired. She thinks of the ’friends’ she had before. After having true companions as a six year old she’d seen just how hollow the ones she had before were. The thought of getting silly drunk and sneaking into clubs with people like that doesn’t give her the buzz it once did.

"I really don’t need to-"

"Look. You’re only young once." Dad says, patting her arm; "So long as magic creatures and interfering fathers aren’t involved. Go out and have fun. There’s always going to be time for the two of us to have our movie and cocoa nights. Go see your friends, have fun and just try not to stay out too late or get too drunk. Okay?"

Sheridan gives her dad a soft smile. He is letting her have her space, just like she asked. So why is it that, once again, Sheridan wants to reject it and insist on staying in? Pleasing her shallow friends, or her prick of an ex-boyfriend, doesn’t seem as important to her as it once did. And Dad’s words hit a strange note inside her heart. He’s wrong. They won’t always get the chance to do this. Dad won’t be around forever, despite the promises that he makes. She could lose him tomorrow and the thought makes her want to suddenly cry.

She gets to her feet. Maybe she does need to go out and get some fresh air. However the first thing she needs to do before that is get dressed. She assumes it’s going to feel a bit uncomfortable to put on a pair of jeggins again after the loose attire she’s been wearing in her reduced form.

But Dad wants her to have fun. He wants her to be happy. She sighs and gives him a sweet kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you, Daddy."

She then trots upstairs to her room. On the way up the stairs she turns back to look at him on the sofa. He sits looking into his cup, thoughtfully, for the longest moment, before picking up the take-away menu. Her heart seems to pause. She wants to go back the way she came.

She goes into her room and locks the door. She paces, her mind racing with what she’s now considering. Is it the right thing? Will it even be possible? Sheridan looks around at the room she helped to decorate. The teenage paraphernalia that almost feels like it doesn’t belong to her anymore. Like she’s opened the wrong door and found herself in a strangers room. She glances at the photos of Jake and her ’gang’ tacked to her wall. There’s no attachment to these people anymore. To their world.

Sheridan removes her dressing gown and sits on the edge of her bed, hands clasped in her lap. She focuses.

"Madame Ivy? You there?" She calls out, softly, not wanting her father to hear; "Hello...genie lady, can you come here please?"

"We agreed on ’Miss Ivy’, I think, sweetie." The mysterious woman appears sitting beside her in the blink of an eye.

Sheridan jumps up in shock.

"I forgot how fast you do that." She says, catching her breath.

"Oh I don’t bother with the puff of smoke like most genies. It’s just showing off." Ivy comments. She regards Sheridan and smiles; "Look at you. Back to normal. Feel better?"

Sheridan doesn’t answer that.

"Ah...Never a satisfied customer." The genie remarks; "Well, it was your dad’s choice to revoke the wish. I thought you’d be thrilled since you weren’t taking well to it. Y’know, to put it mildly."

"Very mild." Sheridan snipes a little; "And I am glad. I mean...I’m glad that he chose it. But there’s something I want now."

Surely she’s deserved something after the week she’s had. And it’s not like she’s going to ask for the moon. Or to be married to Richard Armitage.

"Well, you’ve got a wish to use up if you want it, hon. Like I told your grandma and her mother before her. Ever since that peasant found my lamp and wished for his riches, I’ve been bound to your families bloodline. Each one of your generation gets one wish from me. Most of you lately don’t believe so you don’t call for me. Your dad’s lucky your grandma could get me in touch with him."

Sheridan frowns; "That’s something I don’t get. You say your bound to serve my grandmother’s bloodline. Why did my dad get a wish?"

"Your mother never USED a wish. I can only stay in England. Some sorcerers loop hole." Ivy explains, lazily, not seeming to care that much; "So your father got to use it, having married her. What’s hers is his and all that. Again, more loop-holes. But you get a wish. You sure you want to make it now? Not wait until you’re older with more regrets?"

"I’m sure."

She’s not a hundred per-cent. She knows she’s being rather impulsive after she’s only just recovered from the threat of being regressed to a helpless, mute infant. She might not be thinking straight.

No. She’s going to do this.

"Well, go ahead. And no hard feelings about before, yeah?" Ivy puts it out there, "I wasn’t trying to be cruel...just thought a bit of humility might do you some good."

"Oh, I think it has." She admits, blushing a little. She’s big enough to admit that, if nothing else.

Ivy lays her hands out; "Go on then, Mistress. Make your wish."

Sheridan touches her hands.

"I wish for you to no longer be bound to serve my family." She states, clearly.

The woman’s expression switches instantly.

"...You what?"

"I want you to be free...Miss Ivy." Sheridan says, giving a nod and then letting go of the creature’s hands that had felt surprisingly smooth. She should ask for her moisturizer.

The genie gulps.

She rushes to Sheridan’s vanity mirror to examine herself. To both of their surprise, her hair has changed colour from purple to a flaming red. Sheridan hopes that’s not a bad omen. That she hasn’t just unleashed a hell beast upon the earth. She just wanted to free her family from this temptation. And, of course, for Ivy as well.

The woman turns to her, her eyes still a majestic green.

"...Why?" She asks, as quiet as Sheridan has heard her talk.

Sheridan smiles; "I kind of know what it’s like to feel trapped now. To only do what others tell you to do. At least I had my dad to make it better for me. I’m guessing you don’t have anyone else?"

The genie doesn’t reply. But for the first time in a long time, she’s the one who looks rather humbled.

"That’s what I thought. So...go out there. Do what you like. Make some friends and...a family, if you can." Sheridan offers, "And then you can stop granting bad wishes for any kids I have. You can just have fun tormenting other people. Anyone you want."

Ivy smiles back, looking rather overwhelmed with gratitude.

"Guess I do have a knack for this regression thing. Maybe there’s other fathers and kids out there who’s help I could give?" She says with a cheeky twinkle in her eye.

"Right...good luck with that." Sheridan jests.

Ivy pulls her into a hug and Sheridan doesn’t resist. She returns it briefly, hoping she’s made the right decision.

"See? You can get a satisfied customer." Sheri remarks.

"I dunno what to say. ’Thanks’ is way too little." Ivy tells her, tearfully; "There must be something I can do for you? I got unlimited power here which I’m gonna do my best not to abuse. Anything you really want?"

Unlimited power?

Sheridan could ask for riches, she could ask for fame, she could ask to ace all her exams, she could ask for unlimited cookie dough ice cream. Of course she knows the rules. No killing, no creating emotions and no resurrecting the dead. It doesn’t break those boundaries. And she knows Ivy isn’t bound to do what she asks...Sheri can just hope for the best. Right now there’s only one thing she wants in the world.

A second chance. Not just for her.

*

Dan flicks through the take-away menu before realizing that he’s not all that hungry. He never really bothered in ordering food just for himself. Usually him and Sheridan would share a mixed platter of min starters, his daughter hogging most of the prawn toast and spring rolls. He gets up and goes to the kitchen to see what he can rustle up from the fridge, maybe make a little something for Sheridan to line her stomach before she goes out.

Part of him can barely believe he got off so easily. He’s sure that Sheridan is really pissed off with him and there will come a day, probably not very soon, when it will all come out. He’ll have to deal with that when it comes. For now he’s just grateful that his daughter isn’t moving out and running as far away from him as she can. That instead of fighting she was ready to talk to him. Calm and mature.

So much more grown up than he once thought.

He would always miss the old days. He’d miss his cute little munchkin in her princess costume and pigtails. But instead of trying to fix the past with something as cheap as magic, he can now use what’s been learned to improve the future. So long as Sheridan is happy. It’s all that matters to him in this world. Always will be-

"Shit!" He swears under his breath, his foot stepping on something small and jagged.

Dan looks down to see a pink pony toy with a shiny mane lying on the floor under his foot. He groans and kneels down to pick it up.

"Princess! Please remember to pick up your toys when you’re finished with them, okay?" He calls up the stairs. Force of habit. His daughter can be a scatter-brain, especially when she’s tired.

Dan then freezes for a moment. He glances down at the toy in his hand. Why is he having to remind his daughter not to leave this lying around? Why is this toy, clearly for a small child, in their house in the first place? A tingle runs down his spine.

He opens one of the kitchen cabinets. Beside a stack of adult-sized china plates are a few smaller, plastic ones decorated with cartoon faces. He glances out the window too see a pink and blue Wendy house as well as a tire swing that Dan remembers having broken a while ago. Yet it looks practically good as new.

Moving to the hallway, he finds a Sofia the First backpack hung up on the hook along with a small pink puffer jacket and a pair of Mary Jane school shoes underneath. Dan blinks, feeling a sudden rush in his brain as he struggles to think clearly. He checks the calendar. It’s still 2014. They haven’t gone back in time which is what his surroundings suggest.

Which can only mean one thing.

"Sheridan!" He calls up the stairs, chest gripped by anxiety and confusion; "Darlin’, you okay?"

"Yes, Daddy!" she replies. It’s Sheridan’s voice but it’s more high-pitched. Squeaky.

What on earth is going on?

Dan heads upstairs and along the landing. On Sheridan’s bedroom door is a paper sign covered in glittering stars that looks like it’s been cut out of a children’s magazine and sellotaped on.

WELCOME TO[/B] SHERIDAN’S [B]ROOM![/B]