#like i hope there's a bbg fs but i'm also going to miss *my* bbg fs

[besidemethewholedamntime]

who care about what they think? & fs also for the prompt list x

Hello! I’m so sorry I took so long with your prompt but I hope this cute fs family moment makes up for it almost? I really enjoyed writing this and I really enjoyed writing Sarah again. I hope you like it!

purple bubbles in the air 

{Read on Ao3}

or read below!

“Hey, I thought we agreed we’d never bring up each other’s parenting mishaps after they happened!”

“This ‘mishap’ has lasted two weeks now. Two weeks! It’s not a mishap anymore, it’s a disaster.”

“Pft, her hair is purple. It’s hardly a disaster.”

“Will you listen to yourself? Our two-year-old’s hair is purple!”

Sarah looks up at both of them from where she sits in the bath, surrounded by mountains of bubbles, a significant amount of them piled on top of her head. Unfortunately, they do nothing to hide the fact that her hair is a rather alarming shade of purple. It rather emphasises it.

Both Fitz and Jemma stand looking down at her. Jemma’s arms are crossed and Fitz’s are on his hips, and while Jemma looks distinctly unimpressed, Fitz has been trying his hardest not to laugh.

He looks at his daughter grinning in amongst her sea of bubbles, and fails to see the catastrophe that Jemma does. “So? She likes it!”

“She also likes it when we give her ice-cream for breakfast or take her swimming after she’s just had her lunch. It doesn’t mean it’s good for her.”

“No, but her having purple hair doesn’t lead to her puking everywhere so it’s definitely not as bad.”

Jemma rolls her eyes so hard that he’s surprised she doesn’t fall over. “I can’t believe you’re failing to see how serious this is.”

They’ve tried hard to be parents of the more ‘free-range’ variety, and for the most part they’ve managed it quite well. Fitz is proud of how they’ve managed to curb their personal anxieties and let their daughter explore her own way through childhood. He’s especially proud of Jemma, for he knows that to ignore the temptation to follow strict rules and routines hasn’t been easy for her. She’s been as easy-going as she’s ever been, but evidently purple hair is where she draws the line.

Sarah giggles, clapping her hands together so spray bubbles in every direction. A cluster lands on Jemma’s nose, which Fitz wipes away softly whilst trying – and failing – not to smile. “It looks like I’m not the only one.”

“Oh, Fitz,” she sighs, trying not laugh herself, and sits down on the closed toilet seat. “What are we going to do?”

He sits down on the edge of the bath, scooping up some bubbles and gently blowing them towards Sarah, who laughs and tries to catch them in her little starfish-shaped hands.

“I don’t know,” he says. “Is there anything to do?”

Jemma pinches the bridge of her nose briefly. “We can’t just leave her with purple hair.” She looks at the culprit bottle of shampoo, sitting harmlessly on the side of the sink. “I don’t understand it.”

It was supposed to be a harmless chemical reaction, that’s what the company had said in their very apologetic email the first time Fitz had phoned them. They had sworn left and right that it would fade on its own, and that his toddler’s hair would be back to normal within a few days. Now, nearly two weeks later, the colour doesn’t seem to be going anywhere any time soon.

“Me neither,” he admits. “We only used it twice.” Jemma shoots him a look. “I. I only used it twice.”

“Nothing seems to be working,” Jemma sighs, and looks at the seven other bottles of shampoo they have lined up on the other side of the sink. “You would think something would have, surely.”

They’ve created a vaccine for an alien virus and taken down Hydra more times than he can count, but for the life of them they can’t figure out how to reverse the effects of the shampoo. Sarah’s had more baths in the past two weeks than she’s probably had in her two years, and Fitz has probably bought more bottles of shampoo in the past two weeks than he’s ever bought in his whole life.

“It’s not the end of the world,” he says. “She seems happy with it.”

“We can’t just leave it,” Jemma says, looking horrified. “We wouldn’t be able to take her out at all. Imagine what everyone would think!”

“Who cares what they would think? Sarah’s happy and healthy, and people pierce their baby’s ears all the time. I don’t think purple hair is any worse than that.”

Jemma looks at him for a long moment, and eventually smiles a little. “Oh alright, I suppose you’ve got a point.”

He grins at her. “I’m going to remember that you said that.”

“This doesn’t get you off the hook for dying her hair in the first place,” she says, pointing her finger at him in warning.

“For the last time, Jemma, it was an accident! I didn’t realise I wasn’t meant to buy the shampoo.”

“It’s been two weeks!”

“Which is well past the limitation on bringing up parenting accidents,” he says, narrowing his eyes. “Or shall I bring up the raisin incident?”

Jemma tries to stare him out, but can’t help turning bright red and eventually she hisses, “Fine. I won’t bring it up again.”

“Thank you.” He turns to Sarah, flicking more bubbles at her that she reaches for with such delight. “You like your hair, Sarah, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she giggles, splashing bubbles everywhere. “It’s purple.”

“It’s very purple,” Jemma says gravely, and though a smile tugs at the corner of her lips, she still looks unhappy at the whole thing. She turns to Sarah and says in her soft, sing-song voice, “Your gran and grandad are going to love this.”

Fitz had forgot Jemma’s parents were coming to visit this weekend, but having met Mr and Mrs Simmons before, he doesn’t think there’ll be any trouble.

“They’ll find it hilarious,” he says, reaching over to take her hand, troubled somewhere deep in his chest by that uncertain look on her face. “Your mum especially.”

“I know. That’s what I’m worried about.” She buries her face in her free hand. “They’ll never let me live it down.”

“I’ll tell them it was all me. One-hundred-percent my fault.”

“Oh, don’t worry. That’s what I’m telling them as well. You won’t even get the chance.”

He rolls his eyes but says nothing. Sarah laughs loudly and sprays more bubbles around the room. Their entire world sits purple-haired, covered in soap, and completely ecstatic before them. He thinks he can endure a little teasing for that.