THE ONE WHERE BEACHES ARE FOREIGN IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE

[logically]

The last stop in the family's vacation is a resort on the North Sea in Germany; soon, they will all return to the States, and life will go back to normal. The thought brings relief, but Edgeworth is still yet to process it. Perhaps some time at the beach will help? He doubts it. Even though he's still wearing his shoes, he swears he can feel the sand between his toes. God, when was the last time he'd been to the beach?

Still, at least Gregoria seems to be enjoying herself. That's as much as he can hope for. Some days, he is still overwhelmed by the surge of affection he feels when he looks at his daughter (his daughter). Already dressed in her swimsuit and a sun hat, she runs ahead of her mother before pulling up in front of Edgeworth and performing a polite little bow.

"Dad? Please help me build a sandcastle."

The look Edgeworth throws over Gregoria's head can only be described as stricken panic.

Integra, dear, darling...

... save him?

Comments

[uisce]

It had been several weeks since Integra's return from London, and she could hardly say she missed it. Serving the country she once considered her home felt like a chore these past few months, and one would think the time spent with family would be a welcome change of pace.

It was-- for the most part. She enjoyed seeing how her daughter had grown; recalling how many difficulties she and Miles faced assuming the role of parents (Were they truly married now? The feeling was surreal.) and how Edgeworth was more than filling his role beautifully.

Strolling up to Edgeworth clad in a plain black bikini, sandals, and a beach skirt, she clasps his hand in her own.

"Why don't we help build one together, dear."

She tries so hard...

[logically]

It is not quite the rescue he had been hoping for, but it is better than the alternative nonetheless. He swallows thickly as his fingers intertwine with Integra's, he lets Gregoria lead the way to to her preferred patch of sand. Teamwork. He can do this.

"What sort of sandcastle did you have in mind?" he asks as Gregoria kneels down in the sand with her equipment, brow furrowed in determination.

[uisce]

Scooping sand in her bucket, Gregoria looks up to Edgeworth mid-action, pondering his question very seriously. She hadn't put much thought into the type of castle she wanted to build, admittedly, only that she knew she wanted to build one with her parents.

"Hmm... could we build one like the castle we stayed at with mummy for Christmas?"

Y'know, the one back in Scotland. Integra shoots Edgeworth an almost pained look when Gregoria mentions this. She's never built a sandcastle before, and furthermore, she inspired this.

[logically]

Edgeworth is sure the expression on his face must match Integra's. God knows he's never successfully mastered the art of not letting his emotions play out through his body language. He hopes he at least doesn't look as pained as he feels. He releases Integra's hand just before glancing over his shoulder, wistfully staring at the chair he'd been relaxing on. He wishes he'd brought his towel with him, because now getting sand everywhere seems inevitable.

Still, it's going to be impossible to help Gregoria standing up, so he settles down in the sand next to her, ignoring the way his joints ache as he lowers himself down to the ground. He rarely, if ever, sits on nothing like this. Fatherhood: always an adventure.

"We can. I can't recall - did it have a moat?"

[uisce]

Gregoria, seeming delighted by how quickly Edgeworth seats himself beside her, clasps her hands and nods in agreement (whether or not the castle actually had a moat or not.)

"It did!" she exclaims. And if it didn't, well... it does now.

Integra too, is quick to join them. Albeit-- while the sand does not seem to bother Integra in the same way, she cannot help but notice her daughter's hair brushing against the sand as she sits. Oh, this simply won't do!

"Oh, Gregoria. Let me fix that for you." There is one fussy mother behind her now, combing whatever sand she could through her fingertips before taking it into sections to braid.

[logically]

Miles Edgeworth knows how to tie a cravat fifteen different ways, but he feels like women's hair will always be a mystery to him. Oh, it's not for a lack of trying, but he can't help but admire Integra's dexterity as she busies herself with fixing Gregoria's hair, knowing that he will never be able to achieve a similar level of excellence.

"Mom--" Gregoria huffs, full of indignation. Edgeworth draws a line in the sand; the beginning of their moat.

[uisce]

Gregoria's protest fails to deter Integra from her work, studiously braiding their daughter's hair into tight little knots one after the other. It's not even until she feels a pair of eyes fixated on her that she even allows herself to become temporarily distracted.

Yes, she notices you admiring her there, Edgeworth; and like that, her cheeks radiate in a rosy hue. (Integra, you're married.) To Gregoria, she chuckles.

"Now darling, this shouldn't take so long if you just held still."

Integra was close to finished now, as she braided the last knots of her hair. Then, pleased with her work, she completes the look by wrapping the braid into a thick bun around the back of her head.

[logically]

He looks back over at his wife and child just in time to witness Integra wind the bun at the back of Gregoria's head. The corners of his lifts curve upward in quiet appreciation and not entirely sure what to do with the swell of emotion in his chest, he instead redirects his attention back to castle-building. Who knew that there would be circumstances where building structures in the sand would be the preferable course of action?

"Now, how deep was this moat supposed to be?"

[uisce]

"Deep enough to ward away my enemies!!"

Gregoria, still offended by her mother's actions, decides to grab her pail and moves to seat herself on the opposite side of Edgeworth-- as though he were a wedge between her and her mother. Clearly, she's committed an unspeakable crime!! (She'll get over it.) Cue one very perplexed Integra:

"It appears I've been exiled." she quipped, not certain what to make of this, but in spite of it all, picks up one of the other buckets to fill it up with sand.

[logically]

There's some sort of whole level to the interaction that Edgeworth feels he's missed, but he does his best to placate both parties nonetheless. Turning to Integra, he murmurs, "We'll add the drawbridge later." The exile is, at least, not permanent. His attention is drawn back to Gregoria as she begins to shovel with gusto.

It's going to be a very deep moat.

Gregoria is tenderheaded, methinks... :|a

[uisce]

Integra slides her hand atop Edgeworth's, smiling sweetly to him before peering downward at her daughter.

"Gregoria, I don't believe the defender of your kingdom would like it very much if we were warring against one another-- and frankly, I wouldn't like it either."

She spoke in the same, hushed, cooing tone she normally would to read bedtime stories or settle her down during a storm. This, too, she felt applied here.

"Would you have preferred I had to wash and comb the sand from your hair later?"

Somehow, Integra doubts that's the case.

just a lil

[logically]

Not expecting the contact, Edgeworth tenses up slightly before forcing himself to relax. Gregoria pauses in her fervent shovelling to look up at her mother, regarding her coolly through her bangs. "You pulled," she accuses, "worse than Dad."

Edgeworth winces.

[uisce]

Struggling to keep her sense of humour, Integra lets out a long, exasperated sigh. Let it be known you shouldn't try to reason with a three year old, yet she still persisted.

"Forgive me, darling," she apologizes in earnest, "I'm afraid your scalp is more sensitive than most. I'll try not to make the braids as tight next time. Would it help if I rubbed your head?"

It's hard to let Edgeworth go unacknowledged, knowing how much effort he put into merely learning how to manage his daughter's hair, but for now she gives his hand a gentle squeeze, as if meaning to say more later.

[logically]

Gregoria seems to consider the offer, before inclining her head towards her mother's hand. It seems that somebody knows what she wants.

Edgeworth, unfortunately, can't let the slight go unaddressed, even if the one doing the slighting is his three-year-old daughter.

"I don't pull," he mutters.

[uisce]

That... certainly was the man she married just now. Integra has just barely pulled Gregoria into her arms before she cocks her head to face him, casting Edgeworth a glare that could very well snap mere mortals in two.

No, she is not about to mediate an impending war between her husband and their only child. For now, she had to focus on diverting Gregoria's attention, which she attempts by running her hands atop her head into a gentle massage.

"Does this help at all, darling?"