When Huxley had first found out about her pregnancy, she’d feared that having a baby would be the end of her life. Instead it had turned out to be the beginning of something new and wonderful. So one day, between diaper changes and afternoon naps, Huxley made a quick trip into town to get a new tattoo in commemoration.
She had thought of getting a vine of ivy at first, but then her attention was caught by the crow on her own chest. While it had initially symbolized the reckless freedom of her youth, Huxley still identified with it even now. And if she was a crow, her little daughter was a feather—always a part of her, but Huxley would be ready to let her fly free once the time came.
Ivy showed little appreciation for her mother's poetic thoughts.
It felt like Huxley had barely dozed off a second ago, but she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and hurried over to the crib, only to find Adam already there.
"It's fine, I can do it," Huxley yawned, but Adam snuggled the baby close.
"Go back to sleep," he said kindly, "Let an old man spend some time with his only granddaughter."
Huxley couldn't help but smile at what he'd implied with those words. The contact with her biological father Jamey had been sporadic at best after Huxley had made it clear what she thought of him. She had made no effort to mend things since then, but neither had Jamey. All that remained of him in her life was her surname.
Adam, on the other hand, had always been there for her, even when she was being a brat. They might have gotten off to a rough start all that time ago, but now she had to admit that she too thought of him as a father.
*
Hazel spent many nights at the cemetery, desperately trying to replicate what had happened that time she'd felt Aidan's presence.
One night, her parents caught her coming home in the hours before sunrise again. They had been more than understanding of Hazel's mourning, but now they made it clear that it was time for Hazel to put Icarus' needs before her own.
To their great surprise, she agreed.
Unfortunately her idea of what "putting Icarus' needs first" meant was quite different from what they'd hoped for.
Capturing Aidan's energetic imprint, as she'd begun to call it, had been her obsession for far too long, yet she had nothing to show for it. Hazel would not give up on bringing her one true love back, but until then her son needed a father figure in his life.
It took many days and nights of incessant work, but finally, it was done.
He was a state-of-the-art plumbot, made from hypoallergenic materials and entirely powered by solar energy. Hazel had programmed his artificial intelligence with a focus on empathy and nurturing.
"Aidan is going to be an amazing father," she sniffed, "you're a mere approximation, but for now you'll have to do."
The camera lenses in the plumbot's head made a whirring sound as they focused on the sim before him. After a few seconds of processing the information he gathered, he moved towards Hazel.
There were still some kinks to iron out, but Hazel was ready to see how he did with the baby.
The plumbot stood in front of Icarus' crib and quietly watched the whimpering baby. It was easy to ascribe human emotions to something designed to mimic the shape of a sim, but Hazel knew the actual processes running in his mechanical brain. She'd written the program.
At work Hazel and her colleagues were experimenting with crossbreeding creatures with robotic parts. Hazel had hoped to use their findings to eventually make this plumbot more human, but watching him now, she knew it was all wrong.
So did Icarus, apparently. His whimpers had turned into terrified screams as soon as the plumbot picked him up.
Back to the drawing board it was.
However, after many weeks of work, Hazel had to finally admit that the plumbot had been a complete failure. Icarus had disliked the plumbot as much as the first day he'd seen him, and finally Hazel had decided to cut her losses and abandon the project.
This had only made her more determined than ever to put her son's needs before hers. She'd gotten rid of her double bed and replaced it with toys and age-appropriate furniture for Icarus. A growing sim needed plenty of space and mental stimulation, she reasoned.
Hazel watched Icarus teeter around on his little legs. The boy had inherited her hair and her father's eyes, but whenever she looked at him, all she could see was how much he resembled Aidan. He was his spitting image, and yet Icarus would grow up without ever knowing his father.
That simply would not do. She had to bring Aidan back. For their son.
So while Hazel continued to spend her days and nights in her laboratory,...
...life went on for rest of the family.
Grace and Huxley made sure that Icarus got just as much love and attention as Ivy, but it was Adam who probably spent the most time with the boy.
With his garden still dormant under a layer of snow and ice, it felt good to be needed.
But winter did not last forever, and soon the toddlers became independent enough to not need constant supervision.
Huxley had almost forgotten what it felt like to have time to herself. Her first instinct was to call up her bandmates for a gig, but Offbeat Autonomy was no more. Still, she missed the nightlife and so she headed out to a bar one evening.
Her eyes were immediately drawn to a tall redhead wearing impossibly high heels, but it took Huxley a moment to notice the source of her distress. She was being pestered by a man wearing a leather jacket and a familiar face, and Huxley's temper immediately flared up.
Huxley charged in with balled fists. "You," she bellowed.
"Whoa now, baby, there's enough of me to go around--" He began, but then recognition flashed across his face. "Oh shit."
"You're damn right, 'oh shit'. Now get out of my sight, unless you want more of this!" She raised her fist threateningly and the sleazebag quickly made his exit.
The redhead had been watching the exchange with wide eyes. Now she flashed a sparkling smile at Huxley. "Phew, thanks. That guy was persistent. How about I buy you a drink to show my gratitude?"
Huxley agreed, but as the two women sat at a table in the corner, she found herself at a loss for what to talk about. "So... you're passing through?"
"It it that obvious that I'm not a local?"
"Well, the people here don't usually look like they're on the cover of a fashion mag when they come to a place like this. So yeah, pretty damn obvious."
The redhead laughed a throaty laugh. "I'll just go ahead and take that as a compliment."
Huxley had never been one for small talk, and after all this time interacting only with toddlers and her parents, she supposed she had gotten rusty at it. She felt an uncharacteristic flush creep into her cheeks. "Uhm, yeah. Sorry, that sounded rude. I didn't mean... sometimes I just talk without thinking."
"Don't worry, I like a woman who speaks her mind."
Again, that heat in her cheeks. "Thanks. I... uh... I like your earrings."
The woman reached for the dangling turquoise, placing her hand behind it so Huxley could see it better. "Thank you! I made them."
"You did?"
And so Huxley listened to the woman talk about her jewelry store in Bridgeport. Business was good, so good in fact that now she was expanding to new locations all around SimNation. That's why she was here, to scout locations and set up a branch in Appaloosa Plains.
"You should come and check it out," she said and confidently handed Huxley a business card.
Huxley blinked at it. "Amber Grove?"
The redhead laughed that throaty laugh again. "I know it sounds made up, but I swear it's real. My parents gave me a good conversation starter, at least." She tilted her head and gave Huxley an intense look. "May I know your name?"
"Uh, yeah, of course. I'm Hux. Huxley Mason." Huxley bit down on her lip, annoyed at herself for getting so flustered again. What was it with this woman that made Huxley feel like such a child?
Amber gave a slow smile and purred, "I hope to see you soon, Huxley Mason," before striding away.
Left to stare after this mysterious woman, Huxley's heart leapt when she spotted small butterfly tattoo peeking out from beneath her silk shirt.
Huxley shook her head violently. "Stop being an idiot," she chided herself, but a strange tingle of excitement remained.
_______________
AND THAT WAS LITERALLY THE ONLY REASON FOR AIDAN’S NAME. I know the Adam/Aidan thing must have been confusing and I’m sorry about that, but I just couldn’t not make the (admittedly terrible) A.I.Dan pun. I'm so sorry. I need help.
In the end the plumbot didn't even turn out to be a big part of the story like I'd originally planned, so this is just extra dumb now. Anyway, moving on!
