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“Oh seriously, Michael. You have nothing to worry about. Leto will be just fine in my care. I shall teach him how to fight, like I did for my Michael.”
Philippa and Michael were standing in the entrance hallway of the Burnham residence. Michael was in her Starfleet uniform and was almost leaving for some emergency. Apparently Micheal and her husband’s normal babysitter wasn’t available. Book was on some trip. About finding more of his kind? She wasn’t sure, she wasn’t listening to Michael when she was explaining. His being didn’t concern her as long as he came back home alive for the happiness of Michael.
“Philippa, please don't teach Leto how to fight. Do something nonviolent. Like playing, or drawing, or anything that doesn't involve you teaching my son how to mortality injure someone.”
“Fine. I won't teach him how to fight. Yet. He is too uncoordinated to properly hold a sword.”
“Yeah Philippa, he's three.” Michael said it like it was obvious, and Philippa guesses it was obvious.
A little voice could be heard from the hall, “I'm almost four.” Philippa could see Leto peaking out his head holding five fingers up.
“See, he doesn't even know the correct number of fingers to hold up. The people I have tortured could hold up the correct fingers. Well. When they still had those fingers of course.”
“Philippa!” Michael chastised her.
“What?” She asked with feigned innocence.
Michael sighed, “He loves you and I trust you to do normal activities. Normal activities in this universe, not yours.”
“Boo.” Michael shot her another look. “Fine. What activity should we do then?”
“I don’t know. Draw? Play with toys with him? Bake something?”
Philippa raised an eyebrow, “Such childish things.”
“He is a child!” Michael took a deep breath to calm herself down, “I need to go. Be good. Please.” Her ‘please’ sounded more like a beg than a hope.
“Please, Michael. I ran an empire. You don’t think I can handle a kid? I raised you after all.”
“Mirror me.” She corrected.
She scoffed, “Tomato, tomahto.”
Michael put her face in her hands and sighed. She stayed like that for a moment before lifting her head out of her hands and called for her son. “Leto! Come say bye to me!” Leto came from the hall he was peeking from and ran to her, “So, you remember how I said I needed to go for a bit?” Leto nodded, “Well you are going to be watched by Phillippa."
“Grandma?” Philippa made an indigent noise at the name.
“Well, kinda. She isn’t my biological mom but she is like another mom to me.” Leto wasn’t really following along with her explanation and the women could both tell. “Maybe don’t call Philippa ‘grandma.’ maybe call her ‘grandmother’?”
“The title is insulting Michael, it says I’m some old crazy bat on her death bed and I am not anywhere near my death bed!” Michael tried to reply but Philippa continued. “I have conquered planets! Eliminated races who failed to obey! I should be feared! I am not some soft grandma who bakes cookies and pies!”
“Think of it as a show of gratitude. Grand, something important and impressive. Mother, someone who protects and raises the next generation. Grandmother.”
Philippa looked at Michael and uncrossed her arms. “Fine. Grandmother is acceptable. But I will not let myself be called ‘grandma’.”
“Alrightly then, Leto? You listen to your grandmother now. Unless she is being dangerous.” Michael gave her son a kiss on his forehead and a big hug. “Bye baby! I’ll see you later! I love you!”
Leto replied, “I love you too mommy!” Michael opened the door and walked out, waving to Leto and Philippa. Leto excitedly waved back.
Once the door closed she turned to the three year old, "Alright, Michael said I should bond with you in nonviolent activity."
Leto looked up at her and asked, "So what are we going to do?"
"Your mother suggested baking. A boring activity but we will attempt it nonetheless."
"What are we going to bake?"
"What do you wish to make?"
Leto thought for a minute, "Uhh what about cake?"
"Sounds simple enough. What flavor?"
"Chocolate!"
“An acceptable flavor of choice.” Leto smiled up at her and regretfully she was reminded of her Michael. Mother like son.
“Follow, we are going to see what is in the kitchen.” Leto obeyed and followed her to the kitchen. Philippa was looking in the pantry to see what would be good to use to make a cake. Leto was making noises while she was pillaging the pantry. She saw some sugar, flour, baking powder, cocoa powder, and something that would make this activity quicker. Boxed cake mix.
She grabbed the cake mix and turned around to see Leto dragged a step stool to be closer to the kitchen counter.
She set down the boxed cake mix and Leto immediately picked it up to look at it. He was too young to read but he was pretending to, which would be cute to most. She however is not most.
“So what do we need for cake?” Leto looked at her and continued, “This looks like eggs!” He pointed to the image saying three eggs and smiled.
She looked at the box and where Leto was pointing said three eggs, “This calls for three eggs, so we put in three eggs.”
“What about this one?” He pointed to the pitcher of water.
“It is water, it says we need one cup of it.” Leto jumped off his stool and ran over to a drawer. He opened it and pulled out a measuring cup with a big number one on it. Philipa was slightly impressed that he grabbed the right one.
Leto got back up on the stool and put the measuring cup on the counter, “I remember it because it’s the biggest one!” Then he pointed at the last ingredient on the box, “What is this one?”
“That is olive oil, we need a half cup of that.” Leto nodded and Philippa asked, “So, Leto, where would I find the eggs and the olive oil?”
He giggled and got off his stool again to point at the fridge, “The eggs are in here!” He looked sad for a moment, “I’m not big enough to get it yet.”
“One day you will be big and conquer worlds. I will teach you all I know like I did with my daughter.”
Leto tilled his head in confusion, “What does con- Conser. I can’t say it. The word before ‘worlds’, what was it?”
“Conquer?” He nodded, “It means to control something with force.”
“I don’t want to do that to worlds. I want to help them like mommy does!” The three year old was deeply saddened by the thought, but it was very clear that this was infact Michael’s son.
“You will grow up to be big and help worlds with peace, like your mother.” He smiled at her adjusted prediction.
“Yes I will! Now can you get the eggs? Please.” She opened the fridge, grabbed the carton of eggs before digging three of them out to set on the counter. She placed the egg carton back into the fridge, letting the door shut on its own.
“Leto, get a bowl for the batter.” He ran off to a cabinet that supposedly held mixing bowls. She walked back to the pantry where she saw olive oil earlier. Just as she snagged it, she heard a loud crash. She turned to see Leto with a mixing bowl in his hands and plastic mixing bowls all over the floor.
“Sorry...” She gave him the olive oil and started putting the mixing bowls back into the cabinet they were from.
“Do not say sorry for mistakes of this size. Plastic bowls scattered on the floor by accident is no reason to apologize." This was definitely not the thing Michael would appreciate her saying instead of comforting her son but she does not do comforting.
Once the cabinet was closed she grabbed the oil and mixing bowl from Leto and brought it up to the counter. She turned back around to get the half cup they needed for the oil. Digging through some drawers until she found the ones storing the measuring cups. She grabbed the one she needed and brought it back to the other supplies and the three year old.
“Are you ready to put everything in?” She asked.
Leto nodded excitedly, “Yeah!!!” He grabbed the box mix and opened the box to grab the bag of mix inside. He opened the bag and immediately dumped it into the bowl.
She cracked open the eggs one by one making sure to wash her hands after all three eggs were cracked and the shells were thrown away. After drying her hands she got the one cup measuring cup and poured the amount of water needed into the bowl. Leto was given a whisk and was mixing it all together, although it was slightly messy the way he was mixing.
He was focused on making sure everything was mixed together. So Philippa grabbed the oil and put it in the half cup measuring cup before dumping it into the bowl.
Leto mixed the bowl until he was tired and she took over. He watched while she mixed up the last bit of the batter together.
“I think it needs more water.”
Leto protested, "But it says to only do one cup of water!"
Philippa shrugged, “These directions are merely guidelines.”
“You are not adding more water to the mix.” Leto pouted and crossed his little arms.
Philippa rolled her eyes, “Fine. I shall not add anything that isn’t said on the box.”
“Good!”
She grabbed the box to see what the temperature of the oven needed to be and how long the cake had to be cooked for... 350 degrees and around 30 minutes.
She figured out how to preheat the oven and turned to Leto, “Where are the baking tins?”
Leto got off his stool once again to pull out a drawer that was a part of the oven, “Here they are!” She grabbed one that looked good for the job before kicking the drawer closed with her foot.
Quickly sprayed the pan and grabbed the batter to pour it in. Once all the batter was scooped in and Leto licked the whisk clean they were left to wait.
“So what do you wish to do while waiting for the cake to bake?”
“Play a game!” Leto said excitedly, “Pirates!” Seems simple enough.
Soon she was put in a childish costume hat and an eye patch. She was playing the villain while Leto was ‘fighting’ her with foam swords. He was bad at hitting his target but it was cute. One day she will make sure how to fight with swords, but for now Leto is going to stay uncoordinated.
Sooner then she noticed the oven beeped and she pulled on potholders to take out the cake. She grabbed a toothpick to stab it and it came out clean. The cake was officially cooked.
Leto tugged on her pant leg to get her attention.
“Yes?”
“Can I see the cake?” She grabbed the three year old and held up so he could see the cake they just made.
“We can’t eat it yet, it must cool down.”
“Ok, can we go back to playing now?”
“Sure Leto.” She set her grandson back down and watched him run off again.
Hours later, Michael came back home to find a cake with pieces missing and saw Philippa with Leto. Both were laying on the couch with Leto curled into Philippa’s side. Leto’s toys were scattered around. The living room.
She decided to let them sleep, opting to put a blanket over the two. She may or may not have taken some photos of the two.
She smiled and whispered, “You have grown soft Philippa.”
She left the two alone, mainly to let them sleep but also because the smell of the cake was calling to her and how was she to say no to such a thing?