Prompt: “It’s not always like this”  

(pairing: henry/amber. Genre: au, comedy, fluff. Rating: pg. Words: 652) 

As with many things, the substitute thing was just supposed to be a temporary solution to a temporary problem: Money’s tight, Henry likes to live, and hey, it’s not like children are bad. They're just... Sometimes very loud. And sometimes very opposed to the idea of naptime.  

The place he works at is nice. It's a newly renovated building, there are sunflowers and all sorts of painted animals on the walls (his favorite is the penguin), and the staff’s nice. They appreciate his musical skills, they say, especially Amber who likes to dip her entire hand in the bucket of finger paint and make a mess all over the place. Henry really likes her.  

It’s Wednesday, and about half past naptime – the kids were exceptionally opposed to the idea of naptime today – when Amber finds him, and offers him half of her sandwich. “For your struggle,” she says kindly, and plops down next to him on the bench. She's got specks of finger paint all over her hands and wrists, but he knows that she doesn’t mind. It's like leopard spots, he’s heard her say to the kids, and they believe every word, well, because they’re kids. It's what they do. He accepts it gratefully. “So, do you like it here?” 

“Hwaht?” His mouth is full of chicken and salad when he answers, but it’s okay, because Amber just laughs at him. “Temping. Do you like It here?” He nods. “Oh yeah, the kids are great. But feisty. I don’t remember ever being like that when I was their age.” 

“When was that, last millenium?” She swerves and avoids his arm when he reaches out to try and push her down onto the ground. “You should show some respect to your elders.” She grins. “Haven’t you heard? We’re abiding by the kindergarten law in here.” 

“Which is?” 

“Amber’s right, no matter what she does.” He’s protesting loudly, and she’s cackling joyously, so he knows she’s ing with him just for fun. She likes to do that, she says. Because she thinks he’s kinda funny. Not that she’s told him that, he just assumes, since she keeps laughing at his jokes, even when they’re not particularly humorous. “How long have you been here?” he asks, because even though they’ve worked together for quite some time now, he doesn’t really know an awful lot about her. She's American, she likes music (who doesn’t?), she has pets and a frankly unhealthy obsession with boba, but that’s just about it. “Five years. I only meant for it to be a temporary thing, but then I changed my mind.”  

“What did?” She shrugs. “I decided I wanted to work with kids. They're really smart, when you think about it. And they have a whole other view of life, it’s really impressive to listen to. Did you hear Yoogeun today?” He nods. Oh yes, he’s heard Yoogeun today. He's a cute kid, obviously he knows it, but he also has a habit of dissecting the world into little itty-bitty pieces, questioning everything, just because he can. And maybe because it’s a life-long goal of his to find a question the adults can’t answer. Amber, being Amber, can answer most things, so that hasn’t happened yet. “They’re not usually this hard to put down,” she says, because without even asking about it, she knows that they’re both exhausted after trying to make them just sleep, please, for far longer than usual. Henry's blaming Yoogeun, but he’s not saying that out loud. “It’s fine,” he replies, but he appreciates the gesture. “They’re kids, after all.” She smiles. “They adore you, by the way. You've become their second-favorite teacher practically overnight.” He smiles back. “Let me guess; the favorite’s you?” The raised eyebrow she sends him really gives him all the answers he needs. “Well, duh. I’m me. I'm spectacular.” And Henry thinks, you know what? Yeah. Maybe you really are.