A small ficlet for Ian Gallagher's birthday. Happy and full of love and light like our boy deserves. 💕
Daisy Milkovich makes her way up to the door, balancing a cake box on one flattened hand and the gift bag in the other, haphazardly trying to get her keys out of her pocket. She pauses, whispers "fuck it" to herself, and gives the large oak door three fierce kicks with the side of her leather boot.
"Alright, alright!" She hears a man's voice call from inside the house.
She sees the top of salt and pepper hair in the small window in the door just before it opens.
"Daisy! We weren't expecting you!" The man exclaims. She takes in the sight of her father. Black hair sprinkled with grey. More since the last time she'd seen him. A couple more laugh lines around his eyes perhaps. Good. She thinks, Daddy's keeping him smiling. "Did you fly in just for us?" Her father continues, taking the cake box from her hand and guiding them to the kitchen.
"Just for Dad" Daisy says with a smirk. She sets the gift bag on the counter and gives her Pops a hug. It's returned tightly. Daisy sinks into the feeling of belonging and home that ignights in her heart whenever she makes it back here. Her Pops disentangles himself and starts setting out three mugs for coffee.
Suddenly a sleepy voice shouts from upstairs "MICK! YOU MAKIN' COFFEE YET?"
Daisy and Mickey's eyes meet "He slept in? Must be gettin' old" she says.
Mickey, his eyebrows creasing together, retorts, "He's younger than me, don't know what his excuse is."
She grins as he hands her a cup of coffee with a splash of milk and she heads up the stairs.
She takes a moment to look at the framed photos lining the staircase. Her parents wedding, anniversaries, birthdays. Her arrival. The day at the courthouse when they officially gained guardianship. Big family photos with all her Gallagher aunts and uncles and cousins. Step by step she watches them all grow up and older together. Her family.
"Daddy, you decent?" Daisy calls as she reaches the second floor. She wipes a tear from her eye before her dad can see.
A bewildered voice filters through the open door of the library. "Daisy?!"
Ian emerges into the hallway, his perpetually red hair and beard still a bit wild from sleep. Ian's face changes at the sight of his daughter. A sweet crooked smile, green eyes lit up and starting to water.
She sets the coffee on the hall table and walks into her taller father's open arms.
"Missed you, Daddy. Happy birthday!" She says into his shoulder. "How old are you now? 80?"
"Shuddahp. I'm only 50." Ian bends his head down and plants a soft kiss on his daughter's black hair. "Thanks for coming, Sweetface."
"Wouldn't miss it."
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