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Who: ~~Robin Hood~~ Robert Archer, & ~~James Rogers~~ Jake Archer / ~~Robin Hood~~ Robert Archer & Ava
Where: Random places in Storybrooke
When: The duration of the Storybrooke event
Rating: G or PG I guess?
Summary: Robert + Jake adorable father/son times, and Robert hanging out with his friend, the gym teacher
The Story:
Robert Archer is a widower with three wonderful children whom he loves dearly. He's proud of the people they've grown up to be, and with his daughters recently turning twenty-one, he's feeling more nostalgic and sentimental than usual, feeling like that years have passed by far too quickly.

He makes a living as a History teacher, generally somewhat of an introvert who loves to be at home with his family, cooking, reading, playing games. He very rarely dates, since his heart will always belong to his late wife, but he's happy and doesn't think about it much. Life is good, from his perspective, and of course, he has no idea that this isn't how things are supposed to be, has no memory of his son, Roland, back home in the real Storybrooke.

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Robert chuckles softly, shaking his head with amusement. "Do be sure to save a bit of juice for your dear father, my lad." Of course, he's simply teasing him, and reaches out to ruffle his hair.

"I'll admit the prep work for all of this can get a bit tedious, but we can manage quickly together." He hands Jake the carton of eggs. "Can you start with cracking open all the eggs in this carton? I'll start the hashbrowns cooking."

"There's another jug." He defends himself. He's constantly drinking juice and water. A lot of kids prefer soda and sports drinks, but he's very careful about what he drinks.

Jake grins and starts cracking the eggs. And if he gets a little bit of shell in there, too, well, it'll be good for everyone. Right? Right!

Robert can't really argue with that, and though he enjoys affectionately teasing his boy, he knows full well that he could be drinking worse things, and he's glad he chooses healthier options.

While he wouldn't agree with the eggshells, he's also just far too glad they're doing this together to criticize, especially since he's had his fair share of getting eggshells in things by accident.

Robert gets the dry ingredients measured out for the pancakes while the hashbrowns are cooking, then smiles at his son.

"I think some chocolate chips might make these pancakes even better, what do you think, my boy?"

To his credit, Jake tries to fish the bigger pieces out, while whipping the eggs. He grins at the suggestion and practically bounces over to the pantry, rooting around for the chocolate chips. "White chocolate or the jumbo semi-sweets?" That being all they have. They should probably do a grocery store run today too.

Jake grabs the kind his Dad tells him to and brings them back to where they are working, going back to whisking the eggs. "Are we using spinach, kale or something else for the frittata?" He probably overworked the eggs. Oops?

"Jumbo semi-sweets," he decides; they might as well go all in for this and enjoy it to the fullest. It's more sugar than they would normally have for breakfast, but the protein with the eggs helps to balance it a little, he decides.

The hashbrowns are crispy enough now - having been cooking at a high heat - for the eggs, so Robert looks at his son. "Spinach. I'll grab that while you pour the eggs in there with the hashbrowns." And while that's going, they can get the pancake batter finished and ready.

Jake is not a chef. Jake is not a cook. And no matter how many times they try to do this, Jake manages to screw it up somehow.

Like missing the pan with some of the eggs and dripping it down the side. "Crap!" He grabs a washcloth and begins trying to clean up his mess. What he really does is make a bigger mess. "Uh, help?" He asks, holding a dripping cloth while the eggs start to set in the pan.

As a father, he's always had a calm, even temperament. That's not to say he isn't human just like everyone else, and doesn't occasionally get upset, but it's rare, at least. Certainly for something like this, all he can do in response is move to the pan swiftly, a flicker of an amused smile on his lips. It's an accident, and he's done worse in his time.

The more important thing is doing this together, however messy it might be. Grabbing another cloth and some paper towels, Robert bends to clean up the mess from the floor, then a bit on the pan and the stovetop itself, mixing in the eggs with the the hashbrowns thoroughly. "Best if I supervise a bit more, I think."

The pancake batter is ready, though, so in a moment when the pan can be popped into the oven, he'll just do the pancakes with Jake.

Jake just grins because he knows it takes more than some spilled eggs to rile his father. Not that he's never done it - he's a kid after all - just it takes more than that.

"I don't know why you let me help, we always end up with a mess." Jake points out, teasingly. Not that it isn't an edible mess, but it's definitely not the most appetizing thing to see.

"Why, indeed," he can't help but tease, the smirk on his face giving him away.

He stands next to him, overseeing everything, and once the eggs are right where they should be, he sprinkles the cheese on and pops the skillet into the oven.

"And now for our pancakes."

Once the griddle pan is hot, Robert pours the batter on, and while they're cooking, smiles at his son.

"I do this because I happen to enjoy my son's company."

Jake ducks his head and bumps shoulders with his father. He knows that his father cares for him and that they are closer than some of the people in town. Their whole family is.

Very carefully, under Robert's eye, he manages to flip one pancake without making too much of a failure of it. That's progress right there! Last time, well, they'd ended up scraping pancake off the window while cooking more.

"You're a sap, dad." Not that Jake minds.

"I suppose I am, rather," he chuckles, and he doesn't mind being labelled as such. He loves his children, and he'll be the first to proudly and openly admit that, and brag about how wonderful they are. Not all fathers are that open with their emotions, he knows, but especially since his children have grown up without their mother, he's never wanted them to doubt how much they're loved.

He rests a hand lightly on Jake's shoulder after his son flips the pancake. "Nicely done, lad."

Jake smiles. This is an awesome way to spend a Sunday morning. At least for right now. He plans on spending the rest of it digesting. There might be some heavy duty tv watching in there too. It all depends on if he stays awake after breakfast.

He manages to get the pancake off the griddle without any damage. And then put more batter on. That didn't go so well, though. Jake sighs. "I'm never going to get this, ya know. We've been trying for how long?"

As the eggs will be ready soon, and he's sure they both want to eat within the next half hour, Robert smiles, ruffling his son's hair. "You did well, and I appreciate the company in the kitchen. I'm happy to make the rest of the pancakes, if you'd rather?"

Jake gladly relinquishes everything to his Dad and instead, starts setting the table. "You know I don't mind helping out. I'm just not very good at it." And really, that's the point. It's frustrating for Jake, because he tends to be good at whatever he puts his mind to.

It's all about balance, really; as a parent, he knows he can't just allow his children to abstain from things that they find challenging for whatever reason if he knows it will help them in later life. But helping with breakfast isn't exactly imperative, and his son is helpful in other ways, so he doesn't feel as though he needs to force it upon him.

"Why don't we compromise, lad. After breakfast, we'll do something together that you enjoy."

Jake brightens at that. Why? Because it's Sunday. "There's football all day, Dad." He grins. "You sure you want to promise that?" Why? Because Jake is a fiend for football, and there is literally football until about 11pm tonight. Jake will be watching as much as possible. "Can we order in?" Because that would make football perfect.

"Oh, right, of course, how could I ever forget?" He teases him with a dimpled smirk, but it's all in good fun, really. While Robin's never been all that passionate about football, he enjoys watching it with his son simply because his son enjoys it.

"Mmm, well what sort of father would I be if we didn't order in? Pizza, chicken wings, perhaps?"

James smirks. No one forgets about football when he's in the house. He tried hockey one season but just couldn't get into it the way he did football. Basketball was the same way, but that was more because he hated the squeaking of the shoes.

"Chicken wings from the bar? They have better ones than the pizza place. We can get burgers too?" Because that's important.

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