Micah rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he made his way down the stairs, stifling a yawn. He hesitated halfway, hearing Victoria's voice from the kitchen, scolding someone loudly. "Victoria?"

"Oh, shoot," came her reply after a pause, appearing in the doorway, "I didn't hear you walking down here. You aren't supposed to be awake yet."

Micah blinked at her. "Why? What are you doing?"

"Nothing! Go back upstairs." Victoria waved her hands at him to try and shoo him away. "Come back in, like, five minutes. We'll be done by then."

"'We'?" Micah took a step further down the stairs. "Is Miles here, too? What are you guys doing—"

Victoria held out her hand to stop him before he reached the kitchen. "Do you know what today is?"

Micah frowned. "Sunday?"

"No," Victoria smiled a little, realizing his confusion, "it's Father's Day."

"Oh," Micah's expression changed, suddenly looking embarrassed, "I'm sorry, did I ruin your surprise?"

Victoria shrugged. "Not really. We're almost done anyway. Just, like, stay here for a little bit while we finish."

Micah laughed, sitting on the bottom-most stair, and listened to them bicker from the kitchen over nonsense. "Miles," he said during a pause in their arguing, "why are you over, anyway? What about your own dad?"

"Oh, uh, Victoria and I already made breakfast for him, he had to go to work, so we were up a bit earlier—" Miles stopped, as if suddenly realizing he'd admitted something he shouldn't have.

"You and Victoria, huh?" Micah laughed, putting his head in his hands. "Vic, did you sneak out to make breakfast at the Matthias'?"

Victoria was quiet a moment, probably trying to avoid chewing Miles out, before she said quickly, "I mean, you were asleep, and I didn't want to wake you up if we were just gonna come back and make breakfast here, too, and Miles doesn't really know how to make pancakes, and you wouldn't have even known if Miles knew how to shut his fucking trap—"

"I'm not mad," Micah cut in, knowing her explanation was merely her trying to avoid a lecture, "that's awfully nice of you, he probably really appreciated it."

"Oh," Victoria's voice softened, "you think so?"

Micah frowned, asking instead of answering, "Hey, are you burning something over there?"

"Shit! Miles, you were supposed to watch that!" Victoria made a noise that sounded suspiciously like her whacking Miles on the arm with a spatula. "Uh, dad, you don't mind a few burnt pancakes, do you?"

"It's fine, don't worry about it," Micah laughed, "Miles, I don't think your dad has ever made pancakes without burning at least a few. I think distractedness runs in the family. That, and terrible pancake making skills."

Miles groaned. "Tell me about it."

"Anyway," Victoria said pleasantly, "you can come in now. That was the last batch."

Micah pulled himself to his feet, yawning again, and leaned into the doorway. "You know, you didn't have to—"

He was cut off by Victoria knocking the wind out of him with a hug, pressing her face into his shirt. "We didn't have to, but you deserved it, so we did anyway."

"Thank you, Victoria." Micah put a hand on her shoulder, smiling softly.

"I love you."

Micah nudged her off of his chest and knelt down, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her cheek. "I love you, too, Vic."

Miles stood awkwardly behind Victoria, unsure what to do, but Micah waved a hand at him and said, "C'mere, Miles, don't just stand there. You helped too, didn't you?" He took an uncertain step forward, but Micah put his arm around his shoulders and dragged him forward, ruffling his hair. "Thank you, Miles."

"You're welcome," he said awkwardly, laughing, "it was Victoria's idea, though."

"Ah, come on, we're not just gonna stand here and be all sappy, there's perfectly good pancakes sitting right here," Victoria snorted, and she moved the plate of pancakes from the counter to the table as if to further her point.

"Alright, alright." Micah grabbed onto the back of a chair and dragged himself up, starting towards the kitchen. "You don't have any plates out, though, or silverware, or syrup, or napkins..."

"No, dad, that's for us to get." Victoria caught his arm and pulled him back to the dining room. "You just sit here and let us serve you."

"Okay," Micah laughed, "okay, I'm sitting, alright? Make Miles eat the burnt ones though, those are his fault."

Miles turned to him defensively. "Hey, that's not—"

"I'm kidding, Miles," Micah cut in, grinning, "I'll eat them if neither of you want them, I don't mind."

Victoria stepped in and put them on her own plate, saying sternly, "No, you will not. We didn't make you all these pancakes just for you to take the worst ones. It's your day, after all. You get the better ones."

Micah reached over and ruffled her hair with a laugh. "Whatever you say, Vic."

"Alright—" Victoria finished setting the table, motioning for Miles to sit down—"we are now officially done with everything. Happy Father's Day, dad."