Work Text:
Aunt Irene's Equation
by Irena Adler
Alan winced. It must have been very obvious for six-year-old Charlie to have noticed.
"She likes me," Alan tried, but Charlie started his pout that said he was going to be stubborn and insist that two plus two didn't have to always equal four, not if the twos were particularly large.
"Okay," Alan sighed. "She thinks I'm a long-haired hippie."
"She does'n like your hair?"
"It's not my hair, exactly, it's more of a short-hand description for a type of person."
"Your hair is'n very long. Mommy's is longer."
"Mommy is a girl. Their ... hair rules are different."
"If my hair getz too long will Aunt `Rene not like me no more?"
"Irene will always like you, because you're the son of her favorite niece."
"Evun if I gets long hair?"
"It's not the hair, it's what it stands for." Alan seized on an inspiration. "It's like how x isn't actually two but it can stand for two."
"The hair iz x?"
"Um, sure."
"Are we solvin' for x?"
"No, x is just a factor in the equation of why Irene doesn't like me."
"What're thuh other factors?"
"Um," Alan said, scrambling. "y is that I'm not a doctor or a lawyer, z is that my family isn't strongly Jewish."
"Oh." Charlie was thoughtful for a moment. "I'll be q1 and Don'll be q2."
"Okay ..."
"So right now, it's q1 + q2 < x + y + z, but me `n Don are getting bigger and soon it'll be q1 + q2 >= x + y + z."
Alan stared at Charlie then began to laugh. "You mean because I provided two adorable nephews, Irene will eventually like me?"
"That'z what I said."
"Oh, Charlie," Alan smiled. "People don't follow equations."
Charlie began to pout and Alan shook his head. Charlie would learn soon enough.
end