u/Poppywednes

This is the full version of the fanfic (Vanilla) I wrote some time ago..I'm trying to release all the chapters on AO3 but I have some issues there so for the time being I will be posting them here till the issue is fixed..Well, I hope you will love it..This is just Chapter One. Love y'all.❤️

Vanilla: Chapter One

The afternoon sun beat down heavily, but Mandy’s energy remained completely unbothered. She had dragged Robert along on a mandatory shopping excursion to pick up some appreciation items for the Z-Team members, a gesture to acknowledge their recent performance. However, before they could even look for the team gifts, Mandy had marching orders for Robert: he desperately needed a wardrobe upgrade.

Robert had resisted the idea, shifting uncomfortably at the mere thought of a makeover, but Mandy didn't give a flying fuck. Her word was law.

Standing outside the changing room, she waited with crossed arms until the curtain finally parted. When Robert stepped out, the protest died on his lips. He was clad in a flawlessly tailored, sharp suit that fit his frame perfectly. For a rare, fleeting second, Mandy’s confident facade slipped. She stood completely stunned, a sudden, unfamiliar blush creeping up her cheeks. She quickly covered it with a sharp nod of approval.

After hours of navigating the crowded boutiques, the exhaustion of the day finally began to catch up with them.

"Robert," Mandy said, pausing near the courtyard. "We need ice cream. Now."

Robert exhaled a quiet sigh of relief. Given how utterly draining the shopping spree had been, he thought an ice cream break was an exceptionally good idea.

When they arrived at the parlour, the waiter approached their table, notepad in hand. "Welcome. What flavour can I get for you today, miss?"

Without hesitation, Mandy replied, "Vanilla."

But as the word left her lips, her eyes locked onto the menu's description of the flavour. The bustling sounds of the parlour, the chatter of the crowd, and Robert’s presence all began to fade into a distant hum. Reality zoomed out, pulling her back through the corridors of time...

Flashback

A young Mandy sat entirely alone on a playground swing. Her small hands gripped the chains, and her head hung low, hiding a prominent, purple bruise blooming around her left eye. She slowly licked a melting vanilla ice cream cone, her mind racing with anxiety. Is Mommy actually going to pick me up today?

The school grounds were completely deserted, save for the campus cleaner packing up his tools. He was the one who had noticed her distress and bought her the ice cream to calm her down.

"Hey, dear," the cleaner said softly, walking over. "Your mom still hasn't arrived yet?"

Little Mandy gave a muted, solemn nod.

"That’s heartbreaking. Do you know her phone number? Let me try calling her."

In a small, trembling voice, Mandy recited the digits. The cleaner dialled the number on his phone. He waited as it rang, and rang, and rang. No answer. He tried numerous times, but the line remained stubbornly dead. Realising the child couldn't stay here forever, he sighed. "I might have to call the authorities to help get you home safely, little one..."

"Excuse me."

The cleaner spun around. An elderly man, impeccably dressed in a pristine suit, stood behind them. His refined posture and elegant demeanour instantly gave him away as a professional butler.

"So sorry, dear," the butler said, looking down at Mandy with deep sorrow. "Your mother couldn't pick you up. She was... busy with work again." He then noticed the dark discolouration on her face, his brow furrowing. "By the way, what happened to your eye? Did you get bullied at school again?"

"No, Uncle," Mandy lied swiftly, looking away. "I slipped and fell, and my face hit the table."

The butler’s heart ached. He knew she was lying, knew classmates were tormenting her, but he also knew it was already too late to confront the school's principal today. He turned to the cleaner, offering a polite bow. "Thank you, sir, for watching over her for me. Her mother was supposed to collect her, but duty called. I am deeply sorry to have entangled you in this situation."

"Nah, it’s fine, sir," the cleaner replied, waving it off warmly. "Just get home safely. But what’s your name, little dear?"

Mandy looked up, her expression softening. "I’m Mandy!" she replied in an angelic, sweet tone.

The old cleaner laughed softly, patting her rich brunette hair. "A beautiful name."

Mandy and the butler climbed into the back of the sleek luxury car and drove away from the school. As he navigated the streets, the butler glanced in the rearview mirror. Little Mandy was staring out the window, anxiously rubbing her fingertips together, looking so profoundly miserable that he desperately wanted to pull over and hug her. But professional boundaries held him back.

It was 7:45 PM by the time they arrived at the estate. The moment the front doors opened, the harsh, biting voice of a woman echoed through the grand foyer. Mandy’s mother, immaculate and fiercely dressed, was pacing the floor, shouting into her phone.

"If you don't get those papers on my desk by tomorrow morning, you will be fired! Do you hear me?!"

The sheer coldness in her tone was suffocating. Desperate for affection, the young Mandy walked timidly toward her mother, reaching out to gently tug the fabric of her expensive skirt.

"Mommy..." Mandy whispered, her voice laced with fear. "You... you forgot to pick me up from school today."

Her mother didn't even look down, snapping her phone shut. "The butler brought you home, didn't he? What more do you want from me? I am a very busy woman, Mandy, so don't try to pin your issues on me."

The butler’s chest tightened. He stepped forward, his lips parting to defend the child, but a gentle hand tapped his shoulder. He turned to see the family's young nanny, her ginger hair catching the light. She gave him a subtle, warning look. Don't, her eyes pleaded. If she reacts badly, you'll lose your job. Your family depends on this income.

Mandy’s voice cracked, tears welling up. "But Mommy, you promised Dad you would come pick me up!"

"What matters is that you are home," her mother dismissed coldly, turning her back. "Now leave me alone so I can concentrate on my work. Take her to her room, nanny."

The nanny quickly knelt, taking Mandy’s small hand in hers, offering a deeply sympathetic, sorrowful look that whispered, You are not alone. Mandy, growing up entirely too fast, understood the silent message and squeezed her nanny's hand back.

But as they turned to leave, her mother’s sharp eyes caught the light hitting Mandy’s face. "Nanny, hold on a bit. What happened to your eye, Mandy?"

Mandy shot a panicked look at her nanny. Her mother didn't ask out of maternal worry; she asked out of judgment. If she found out Mandy was being bullied, she would blame her for being weak, criticising her for allowing people to beat her up.

"I slipped," Mandy lied again, her voice barely audible. But it didn't matter. At the end of the day, criticism was inevitable.

"You clumsy girl," her mother scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Always falling. I wonder where you get that from. Never mind. Nanny, get her some ointment to treat it, then you can leave."

As Mandy and the nanny began to walk away, the butler couldn't stay silent any longer. Risking everything, he looked directly at the businesswoman. "Madam, with all due respect, you are being incredibly unfair to Mandy. You are the one who brought her into this world, yet you refuse to cherish her because of your own past bitterness."

Her mother’s expression turned lethal. "Don't teach me how to raise my own child. Get out of my sight."

"But madam—!"

"Leave, old man!" she barked.

Defeated, the butler left to fetch the medicine. Upstairs in her bedroom, the nanny gently pressed an ice pack against Mandy’s swollen eye. "Here you go, dear," the nanny whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I wish I could go to your school and protect you, but I can't. I'm so sorry about all of this. You deserve so much better."

Suddenly, the sharp, distinct sound of a car horn echoed from the driveway below.

Mandy’s eyes lit up. She knew that sound instantly. Forgetting the pain, she burst out of her room, running down the hallway with pure joy. The nanny tried to slow her down, crying out for her to be careful, but it was too late.

Bursting through the main doors, she saw him. A handsome man with golden blonde hair, sharp green eyes, and wire-rimmed glasses, wearing his signature dust coat.

"Good evening, dear," Mandy’s mother greeted him, her cold demeanour instantly vanishing into a performative smile.

The man replied with a thoroughly cold glare, ignoring her completely. But the moment little Mandy came running down the stairs, yelling, "Daddy!", his entire mood transformed into radiant warmth.

"Hello, my angel," her father said, his voice a soothing balm as he knelt and scooped her into a tight, protective hug. "I have missed you so much. I’m so sorry, sweetie, Daddy couldn't come home for a few days."

Mandy’s mom rolled her eyes from the doorway, muttering crossly, "It was actually a whole week."

Pulling back, her father’s green eyes suddenly locked onto her face, his smile vanishing as he realised how badly injured his daughter was. "Mandy... what on earth happened to your eye?"

"I slipped, Daddy! Believe me," she insisted, desperate not to make him worry.

Her father looked into her eyes, his heart breaking. "Sweetheart, I know you're lying. What did we say about telling lies?"

"No, Daddy, I really did slip!" Mandy cried, burying her face in his shoulder.

Her father knew the truth, but seeing how terrified she was of the alternative, he decided to let it go for now. He stroked her brunette hair gently. "Mandy, do you know what? Please go to your room for a moment. I will see you in a little bit, Missy."

"Okay, Daddy," she smiled, finally feeling safe as she trotted back upstairs.

The moment the door closed behind her, her father’s warmth instantly evaporated. He turned on his wife, his voice shaking with pure, unadulterated fury. "Okay, she's gone. I leave this house for one week, and I come back to see Mandy like this?! What the heck is wrong with you?!"

"Sam, honey, look, I can explain," she stammered, her confidence faltering under his wrath. "I was busy, so I—"

"Oh, you were busy, so you forgot about her at school?! How pathetic!"

"Sam, I—no, it's not my fault!"

"Not your fault?!" he roared, his voice echoing through the mansion. "And you forgot to pick her up from school? If it weren't for the butler, Mandy would still be sitting out there in the dark! And worse, she is badly hurt! Did you even know she was being bullied?!"

From the hallway, Mandy pressed her ear to the door, listening to the muffled shouting.

"Dear, she is your own biological daughter," her father’s voice carried up the stairs, laced with absolute disgust. "Yet you treat her like shit! Why would you do that? Look, I am so done. I am going to her school first thing tomorrow morning before work, since you are too irresponsible to care! She isn't even my biological daughter, yet she is the most precious thing I have ever had in my life! God, do you know I have had enough?!"

Upstairs, Mandy retreated to her bed, her heart pounding. The nanny walked in, looking deeply worried.

"Nanny..." Mandy whispered. "Is Daddy mad at Mommy?"

"Dear, I can't quite tell, but it seems..."

Before she could finish, the door clicked open. Her father stepped into the room, the anger entirely gone from his face, replaced by a tender smile. "Sorry, sweetie. Daddy had a little conversation with Mommy. But look, I got something for you."

Mandy tilted her head. "What is it, Daddy? You know I hate surprises."

"Guess, Missy, guess!"

Suddenly, a tiny, muffled bark echoed from the cardboard box her father was holding.

Mandy’s eyes went wide. "Wait... Daddy, you got me a dog?!"

"Yes, it’s a puppy, Mandy!"

Mandy sprang from the bed, wrapping her arms around his neck with a smile so wide it hurt. The nanny quietly excused herself to let them have their moment.

"Nanny, can you please fetch some supplements for Mandy since she's wounded?" her father called out.

"Of course, sir," she replied warmly, closing the door.

Mandy carefully lifted the tiny puppy from the carrier, cradling it in her arms. "Hello there. I’m Mandy. What should I call you?" She smiled, her eyes bright and alive. "Daddy, do you have a name for it?"

"No, Missy. You can name it."

"Oh! Oh, can I name it Fluffy?"

Her dad nodded with a chuckle. "Fluffy it is. I also brought you something else... vanilla cake."

"Yeah!! Daddy, that's my favourite!"

"Haha, I knew you would definitely ask for it," he said, gently patting her dark brunette hair.

Mandy looked up at him, her expression turning slightly serious. "Daddy?"

"Yes, Missy?"

"Can I ask you a silly question?"

"Why not? What is it about?"

Mandy looked down at her cake, then back up at him. "Why do people hate vanilla, even though it's very yummy? The kids at school say it's boring."

Her father looked at her for a long moment, searching for the perfect answer to heal his daughter's spirit.

"Vanilla... ah, hum. Many people don't know the truth, Mandy," he said softly. "I think it has to do with the colour. People hate it because they think it looks bland, basic, and uninteresting. But the truth is, vanilla is actually incredibly special in its own way. It is one of the hardest flavours to make. Unlike other common flavours, it requires a unique ingredient—special orchids and beans that travel all the way from Madagascar. To the ignorant eye, vanilla is just there. It looks unimpressive. But those who take the time to look past the surface know exactly how rare and special it truly is. Remember that, Mandy. Vanilla is extraordinary precisely because it has the strength to look simple, even when a select few know the immense value hidden inside."

Present Day

The memory dissolved, and the bustling ambient noise of the ice cream parlour rushed back over Mandy all at once. She blinked, her focus locking onto the scoop of pristine, white vanilla ice cream sitting on the table in front of her.

She had completely zoomed out.

Robert leaned forward across the small table, his brow furrowing with genuine concern as he closely studied her face. "Mandy? Are you alright? It seemed like you completely lost yourself for a moment."

"Oh! Uh..." Mandy cleared her throat quickly, her usual fiery, confident demeanour snapping right back into place as she looked up. "Yeah, fine! Sorry. Just thinking about how much all this shopping costs you, Missy."

Robert let out a soft, amused huff, shaking his head. He leaned back, the plastic chair creaking under him as he observed her with a sceptical brow. "Vanilla? Seriously, Mandy?"

Mandy carefully levelled off the top of her scoop, completely focused on the metal spoon in her hand. "It’s a classic for a reason."

"It’s the 'beige' of the food pyramid," Robert countered, letting out another soft huff. "Out of thirty-one flavours, you go for the one that’s basically a blank screen? I figured you for something… I don’t know. Something with a little more chaos."

Mandy glanced up, her expression completely unreadable as she met his gaze. "Predictable isn’t a dirty word, Robert."

Robert shrugged casually. "No, but it’s a quiet one. It’s what people pick when they’re afraid to take a risk."

Mandy stopped stirring entirely. She went quiet, watching a small bead of condensation track slowly down the curved side of the cup. Her father's words echoed in her mind. "People think vanilla is just an absence of flavour," she said softly, her tone carrying a sudden weight. "But it’s actually the hardest one to get right. You can’t hide bad ingredients in it. There’s no fudge or sea salt to mask the cheap stuff here."

Robert grew quiet, his teasing demeanour melting away as he actually watched her now, sensing the unexpected depth beneath her words. "Defensive. I like it."

"It’s just… steady," Mandy continued, her voice softening as she looked back down at her treat. "It doesn’t try too hard to impress you. It just is. And if you’re actually paying attention, it’s enough."

Robert’s voice dropped an octave, his expression softening completely. "Most people don’t have the patience for 'enough.'"

Mandy paused a brief beat, then slowly slid the cup exactly two inches toward the centre of the table, offering a silent invitation. "Then they miss out."

Robert hesitated for a moment. He reached out, taking a small bite directly from her cup, almost like he was testing a profound theory. He chewed, his eyebrows lifting in mild surprise. "…Okay. I get it. It’s actually—it’s got that floral thing going on. It’s good."

A tiny, genuine smile finally broke through Mandy's carefully guarded expression. "It’s Madagascar bean. I told you."

"Yeah, yeah. You’re always right," Robert smiled, the teasing completely fading out of his eyes as he looked at her for a long, heavy beat. Suddenly, he paused. "Hold on."

Mandy blinked, her defensive walls immediately going back up. What? Did I get—

Before she could finish, Robert leaned all the way across the narrow table. His thumb gently brushed the corner of her lip, his touch warm against her skin. "Yeah. Right there."

He didn’t reach for a napkin. Instead, he leaned in closer and kissed the corner of her mouth—a gesture that was quick, warm, and entirely too deliberate.

Mandy's breath hitched instantly. Her fingers tightened around the handle of her spoon, her heart doing a violent flip in her chest. …Robert.

Pulling back just a few inches, Robert gave her a playful whisper, his brown eyes glinting. "Missed a spot. Couldn’t let it go to waste."

Mandy touched her own cheek, her face flushing a deep, radiant crimson despite her absolute best efforts to stay composed. "You’re such a nuisance."

Picking up his own spoon again, Robert offered her a sharp, devastating wink. "Maybe. But I’m definitely not bored."

More chapters will be coming soon..

Mandy Unveiled..

Vanilla(full version)