#thank you gabi for the joke about kristoff and the bears

[ahtohallan-calling]

chapter 3  of true north is here!

[kristanna / t / the actual fic version of my single dad au at long last]

ch. 1 / 2

“Can we see the penguins?”

“That’s the only reason to go to the zoo, isn’t it?” Sven asks, leaning back to tickle his goddaughter’s ankle. 

She squeals and kicks at his hand. “No! We go for ice cream!”

“We have ice cream at home,” Kristoff says, hiding a smile, because it’s his job to be the grouchy one so that Uncle Sven seems even cooler.

“But it’s my birthday,” she whines, and Kristoff glances up in the rearview mirror to see a pair of puppy dog eyes that match the set coming at him from the passenger seat.

“I’ll consider it,” he lies, knowing damn well he’ll be putting down ten bucks for two firecracker pops and a frozen lemonade and watch his melt while he keeps a napkin pressed to Alice’s chubby wrist before it drips onto her dress, and then inevitably more of it will end up on the ground than in her mouth.

He wonders if Bailey would say he’s spoiling her, that she doesn’t need a popsicle and special pancakes and her pink birthday cake.

But Bailey’s not here, and that’s why he’ll do it.

“Hey Al, do you see what I see?” Sven says with exaggerated enthusiasm, pointing to the green road sign that says “Zoo Next Exit”, and Alice scrunches up her face.

“A tree?” she asks, confused, and Kristoff can’t help but laugh.

---

“Nah, man, I’ve got it,” Kristoff says gruffly as Sven pulls out his wallet.

“Let it be my birthday present to Al,” Sven argues, even though he’s already putting it away again; it’s a familiar routine for both of them, helps both of them keep their pride intact even if it means they get weird looks from waiters sometimes when Sven’s excuses err on the ridiculous side.

“I’m sure you already got her something else,” Kristoff says, sliding his debit card across the counter, and by the other man’s grin he knows that’s a yes.

The teenage boy managing the cash register makes that face, the one with narrowed eyes that say don’t I know you from somewhere? Mercifully, Alice saves them by proclaiming very loudly, “It’s my birthday. I’m four.”

The teenager slides an “it’s my birthday!” sticker over the counter. “There you go, kiddo. Happy birthday. And, uh,” he adds, eyeing Sven a little shyly, “go Tigers.”

Sven grins and gives him a fist bump. “Thanks, man.”

They’re saved from getting asked for an autograph by a school bus of preschoolers rolling up. Kristoff pulls Alice out of the way and kneels down to put the sticker on her shirt, but she shrieks and pushes his hand away. “Not there, Daddy,” she whines. 

“Okay, where?”

She points to the same spot he just went for, and he follows her orders. “Better?”

Alice nods and takes hold of his hand. “We can go now,” she says, imperious as a queen, and Sven doesn’t bother to hide his snort of laughter.

---

The arctic section, thankfully, is in the middle of the zoo, so in only a few minutes Alice has her nose pressed up against the glass as she watches them dive for their breakfast. Sven’s right beside her, ooh-ing and ahh-ing with all the kids even though he’s as tall as five of them stacked together. 

Kristoff hangs back and takes a surreptitious picture on his phone; they’ve learned the hard way if they try and take pictures together, someone inevitably notices and gasps, “Sven Peters?” and asks for a picture of their own, and then they lose half an hour to football fans who don’t give a shit that they have a limited amount of time before Alice has an “I-need-a-nap” meltdown.

Eventually, the penguins disappear in the recesses of the enclosure, and Alice bounds back over to him, holding her arms up. He does her one better and sets her on his shoulders. “Where to now, Ally Pally?”

“Seals!” she proclaims, and off they go, just in time to see the show with the trainers and the red ball. 

The birthday sticker nets Alice a chance to ask the trainer a question. “Do seals have mommies?” she asks, and though everyone else laughs at how cute it is, Kristoff feels queasy for a second, worried that she’s still not over last night’s meltdown.

They move pretty quick after that, knowing there’s only a finite amount of time before she starts asking for ice cream; Asian animals are next, first the elephants-- “stinky,” Alice says, wrinkling her nose as they watch one relieve itself, and then the tigers-- “take a picture of me with them quick, Bjorgman,” Sven insists, and somehow they manage to pull it off without anyone seeing, and then the pandas, which are Kristoff’s favorite because they know the secret to happiness is being left the hell alone to eat as much as you please.

The other bears are next, and Alice takes great delight in watching Sven look between Kristoff and the grizzly enclosure and ask if she sees a difference. “I’m telling you, Bjorgman,” he says, clicking his tongue and shaking his head sadly, “the beard’s gotta go, or they’re gonna put you behind glass, too.”

“Shut up,” he mumbles, earning a snort and an elbow to the ribs.

They’re only halfway through the monkey section when Alice starts whining about a popsicle. “We’re not coming back through here if we leave now, Al,” Kristoff warns her, but she’s unmoved.

She switches to holding Sven’s hand while Kristoff pays for the popsicles and finds a bench big enough for the three of them; Alice sits in the middle, red popsicle juice already dripping onto her t-shirt, and leans back with a happy sigh.

“Good birthday so far, Ally Pally?” Sven asks as he slurps at his own firecracker pop.

“Uh-huh,” she mumbles, trying and failing to catch a drip running down her arm.

Kristoff sets his frozen lemonade aside to swipe at it, cursing himself for leaving the wet wipes in the car. “Guess what? Uncle Sven’s going to Nana’s house for your party tonight.”

“Why?” Alice asks, frowning.

“Because he’s your family,” Kristoff says.

“Why won’t Mommy be there?”

Shit. He walked right into that one. “She’s busy,” Kristoff says, wondering if she actually is.

Some days, that line works. Today, it doesn’t. A moment later, the popsicle is on the sidewalk, Alice is screeching, and he and Sven come to the silent agreement that it’s time to go.

If he wasn’t so busy wrangling a sobbing four-year-old, Kristoff would have time to be amused that, just like when they played together in college, Sven’s the one clearing a path for him through the horde. He’s damn lucky to have a friend like that, and he knows it, but it still doesn’t sit right, sometimes, all the shit Sven does without asking for anything back. He won’t even take Kristoff buying the tickets and ice cream; there’s going to be a twenty shoved in the glove compartment or the fridge or one of Alice’s little plastic purses by the end of the day, and neither of them will say anything about it.

---

One mile in the car is enough to knock Alice out, and they’ve still got fourteen to go. Sven chuckles at the sight of her slumped over in the carseat. “Damn. Guess chasing the seals up and down the glass wore her out.”

“She didn’t sleep well last night,” Kristoff admits, and they’re both quiet for a minute; they’ve been best friends, tight as real brothers, for going on nine years now, but it’s still hard sometimes, talking about shit like this. It only ever happens in the car when they don’t really have to look at each other.

“Asking about the wicked witch of the west again?”

Petty as it is, the stupid nickname still gives Kristoff a twinge of satisfaction when he hears it. “Yeah. Apparently Lily’s mommy was at her birthday party, so now Al wants hers. As if she’s a fucking clown for hire or something.”

“What’d you tell her?”

“That Mommy’s busy. I’ve told her before that Mommy’s not coming back, but it doesn’t really get through to her. I don’t think she gets ‘never’ yet, you know?”

Sven mutters something under his breath that’s so vulgar Kristoff checks the rearview mirror to make sure Alice didn’t wake up to hear it. “Well, at least she’s got the world’s coolest uncle. And her dad’s alright, too, when he’s not being a grumpy bastard.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

That’s enough male bonding for one day. They’re quiet for another moment, and then Sven plugs the aux cable into his phone, and they listen to Journey at half volume the rest of the way back to the house, Sven headbanging and playing a wicked air guitar until Kristoff cracks a rare smile and plays the drums on the steering wheel at a red light.

---

Sven heads right to practice once they’re back at the house; he claps Kristoff on the shoulder and says “see you tonight” before loping off to his car and leaving him to carry Alice upstairs to her bed.

He’s got forty minutes of naptime left if he’s lucky. He sniffs at his shirt and cringes; between the meltdown last night and how tired he was afterward, a shower hasn’t happened yet. Neither has mopping the kitchen where it’s still sticky after an apple juice incident, nor washing his sheets; he hasn’t even finished double checking the books for the café like his mom asked. 

But that shit’s a hell of a lot easier to do when Alice is awake than this is, so Kristoff hops in the shower without waiting for the water to warm and grabs his bottle of three-in-one soap. He hums a little to himself as he lathers his hair, one of the songs they jammed out to in the car, and lets the warm water do what it can to relieve the tension that’s always sitting in his shoulders even on the days when no one calls out at work and Alice doesn’t scream in the grocery store. 

He winces at his reflection when he gets out of the shower. Sven had a point today about the beard; combined with his overgrown hair and the shadows under his eyes, he looks less like a twenty something ex-football player than a grizzled old mountain man. No fucking wonder people keep their distance from him. 

He likes it that way, though, really; no probing questions in the checkout line, no well-meaning advice from strangers, nobody interrupting the routine they’ve got down. 

But sometimes, he has to admit, it would be nice if—

“Daddy?” comes a sleepy, petulant voice from down the hall, and he’s been wasting time wanting things when he’s not even dressed yet. 

—-

As usual, his mom’s gone all out for the party; Kristoff’s her only child, so she spoils Alice with the focus and enthusiasm of an entire competitive cheer squad. There’s a massive pink cake— way too much for the two of them, his parents, and Sven and his new girlfriend, who’s an unexpected but highly welcome addition to the crew, considering how quickly she and Alice bond over their love of Mulan and orange juice.

 It’s not a break, exactly, to have this many adults around, but it’s breathing room, at least; Alice is in the living room on her grandfather’s lap performing all her favorite songs from Poppy’s Garden Tales while Sven’s girlfriend-- Marissa or Maisie or something-- claps along and Sven takes pictures of them both. Kristoff’s in the kitchen working on clearing the table and washing the dishes, enjoying the relative peace of the moment, until suddenly his mom appears at his elbow with a knowing glint in her eye.

“You’re not eating enough,” she says without preamble.

“What? I ate two plates of spaghetti.”

She jabs him in the side, and he yelps. “What else have you eaten today?”

“A pancake,” he says defensively. “And some frozen lemonade and a PB&J.”

He didn’t realize how little it was until he lists it all off. He used to eat four thousand calories a day, track all his macros weigh all his proteins; now he just eats whatever he’s making for Alice. 

“Baby,” his mother says gently, “you gotta take care of yourself, too.”

He’s heard this lecture a thousand times over the last four years. “I know,” he mumbles; arguing only prolongs the inevitable. 

“Maybe Sven can help you find a nice--”

“No, Ma,” he says, and it comes out harsher than he means it to. He pauses his scrubbing, remorseful, and she sets a hand on his forearm in silent understanding.

He leans down and kisses her cheek. “You and Al are the only girls I need,” he says, keeping his voice light, and she laughs.

The singing’s ended by now, and Alice is on her uncle’s lap reciting all the animals they saw that morning. “We’re gonna go back,” she announces. “You can come next time, Mary.”

Mary-- shit, how’d he forget an easy name like that? He really is getting old.

“What’d you wish for when you blew out the candles, Ally Pally?” she asks, and now Kristoff really likes her for catching on to that so quick.

“I want every day like this,” Alice announces decisively.

Sven chuckles at that. “If every day’s your birthday, then it’s not special anymore.”

“Nooo,” Alice giggles, “I wanna have fun with Daddy every day.”

Well, shit. He fucking wants that too, but how the hell do you tell a four year old it’s not that easy, that he only got today off with her because both his parents worked at the cafe today despite his dad’s knee replacement and his mom’s arthritis?

He’s glad Ma’s turned away from him when Alice says it so he doesn’t have to see the all-too familiar sympathy in her eyes. He gets that look from her and the rest of the world every damn day. He doesn’t want pity, doesn’t even want help. Him and Alice, they’re a team, and they don’t need anyone else. 

“Baby,” his mom starts, and he knows it’s going to be something too compassionate to stomach right now, and so he walks into the living room, pretending not to hear.

#thank you gabi for the joke about kristoff and the bears #kristanna #my fics #coffee shop au #tn