Author's Note: I donated blood today and got very light-headed (luckily did not pass out). This is the result. If I was nice I would have given Dave a little can of cranberry juice and a fudge wafer bar like I was given. ;) Verse/Setting: Post-Sorcerer’s Apprentice 2010.
Disclaimer: I don't own Sorcerer’s Apprentice 2010 and am not making money from this fic.
Warning(s): AU; suggestions of discipline of adult.

Mother Hen

“You didn’t finish your beets,” a concerned female voice carried through the door.

“I don’t like beets,” a frustrated young male voice soon followed.

“Eat your beets, Dave….” Balthazar said sternly as he walked through said door and into the kitchen where Dave was sat at the table. Veronica was flitting around picking up and putting various other foods in front of the younger man. Dave looked at Balthazar beseechingly.

“I can’t eat them! If I eat one more bite, I swear my stomach will burst!” the boy at least had the grace to blush at his own whiny tone- but it didn’t stop him from staring at his father-figure imploringly.

Frowning at the words, Balthazar glanced around the kitchen again, only truly paying attention in his second glance, to the amount of food Veronica had prepared. The sorcerer looked at his wife in slight confusion. “Are we throwing a party?”

“No…no…” Veronica waved her hands agitatedly as she put more food in front of Dave. “Dave needs to eat. His caregiver said so!”

“She wasn’t my care-giver. She was the attendant at the blood drive…and she said to make sure I don’t skip meals. She didn’t say anything about doubling or tripling up on them!” Dave retorted, although from the look on his face he wasn’t expecting his words to make any difference. He’d apparently already told Veronica this before.

“You lost blood! You fainted!” Veronica retorted back vehemently. “You’re pale!”

“I GAVE blood- and it wasn’t enough to hurt me! I did NOT faint…I only got a little light-headed. And I’m ALWAYS pale. It’s not like I was stabbed or something!” Dave tried to keep his voice calm and reasonable, but he was frustrated and couldn’t help the slightly hysterical tone he applied to his last words. He closed his eyes and winced when Veronica gasped at his comment of being stabbed- uneasy guilt dropping onto his shoulders at the thought he’d upset her more.

Balthazar’s very disappointed glare didn’t help matters any. Dave could almost feel the man’s hand swatting his backside- and he was at least five feet away. Biting his lip, he reluctantly took his fork and stabbed into the hated purplish red vegetable. “Ok,” he said in defeat. “I’ll eat my beets…”

The sorcerer smiled at his son, walking over to the table and ruffling his hair before beginning to pick up all the platters of food Veronica had put in front of him. “Good boy. Meanwhile, I’ll put all this other food away.” He shook his head at Veronica as it appeared she was about to protest. “We don’t want you being so full from your snack that you aren’t able to eat dinner, after all….”

Dave’s eyes widened and he groaned. Dinner? This wasn’t dinner???

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