Dress Sense
"Hey, Dot."Dot took off her glasses as Bob entered her office, and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Hi, Bob."
The Guardian took her hand as she stood up. "Long day?" he asked.
"You could say that," she smiled wryly as they walked out to the war room. "Did Adena behave herself today?"
"Good as gold, as always. She's waiting for us," he grinned. Dot shook her head at him.
"You need to stop spoiling her so much."
"Why? She deserves it!"
"Well, I - "
Dot stopped dead, mid-sentence, as she laid eyes on her daughter for the first time that second. The child was wearing neon orange pants, a screaming pink shirt, and mismatched shoes, the laces of one trailing on the floor as she swung her short legs beneath the console whilst she coloured a JPEG.
"Dot?"
"Hmm?"
"Is there... something wrong?"
Dot looked blankly at her lover for a nano. What could she say? "Bob, I love you, but you have absolutely no concept of colour coordination whatsoever"?
"Dot?" he prodded, concern on his face.
She smiled, suddenly. "It's nothing, Bob." She glanced back at Adena, who was utterly oblivious to her fashion predicament, and made a mental note to teach the Guardian some colour sense at a later date. "Let's go home."
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