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Aug. 20th, 2006 11:31 pmHealing ribs or not, he has a morning workout routine: he needs to keep moving. Beth isn't much for sleeping through the night these days and he bets a lot of it's the pregnancy, but he wouldn't be surprised if some of it's residual shit from her stint out there. Hell, he knows he's got some: he'll never tell Beth how many times he's woken in the middle of the night, eyes wide open, replaying some of what he lived through. From opening that fucking bathroom door and finding her gone and himself on Mars to the showdown with Vicious and everything in between, and he'd be hard pressed to say Beth isn't doing some of the same things herself when he's sleeping. It's pretty normal. He's no stranger to what they love to call post-traumatic stress; some days it seems like he's lived half his life that way.
But for now, he's got something else in mind and so, while Beth's still sleeping -- while it's still almost dark out -- he finds a little quiet corner of the room and writes her a letter. It's a little bit corny, but hell, who gives a fuck? Not the bounty hunter who's head over heels in love.
Hey, Slim. Surprise! A letter. No, I'm not going to give you another list of a hundred things I love about you. That'd be too easy, but see, I'd get lost in thought. Each thing would make me smile, and then each thing would lead me to a memory, and each memory would lead me to another smile, and sure enough, you'd wake up and look over and I'd be sitting here with something on the paper like #1: your eyes. And that would have been as far as I'd have gotten, and that'd be a sorry damn excuse for a letter. Anyhow. See? It's already happening, I'm grinning like a fucking fool for love which... I guess I am.
So here's what I wanted to say: I'm sitting here in the almost dark watching you sleep before I go out for a little run, and you look so peaceful. I'm glad we got that big pillow from Bar and even though I'd rather have it be me you're wrapping your arms around, hell, I get kind of a vicarious thrill just from seeing it because I know how soft your hands are, how tender your touch is, how good it feels to be in those arms of yours. I'm thinking back to the other night, before we raided the kitchen, when you said the word "contraction" and my heart kind of stopped and my mind raced and I thought fuck, I'm not ready for this. But you know what? Doesn't matter if I'm ready or not: whatever happens happens and we just get to kind of hang around and let it unfold. Ready or not, Slim, Junior will be here.
It's kind of a miniature miracle. Maybe not so miniature. I look at you, and you know what I see? Well, I see Beth, for sure, but beyond that I see a woman who's just about perfect, or just about perfect as far as I'm concerned. I see a woman who's not only beautiful and smart and sexy, but brave as hell, cool and competent, kind, loving, but not cloying or obnoxious or needy about it. I see someone who's not afraid to try new things, meet new circumstances, and kick fate in the ass when she doesn't like what it's dealt her. I see a woman who's got this presence of mind, who's not afraid to be herself, who's not afraid to speak up and demand what she needs. I see someone who's going to meet this next untested thing and be the best goddamn new mom in the universe.
Love you, Beth Durand. I couldn't have asked for a better match in a woman I love. You're... the one who gives me balance.
Be back soon, maybe even before you wake up and read this.
Spike
He leaves the letter right on the bedside table, tented up so she'll notice it right next to her little blue cup, then heads out for a nice slow jog around the lake. Odds are he will be back before she wakes up, but just in case... well, she'll know he's been thinking about her.
But for now, he's got something else in mind and so, while Beth's still sleeping -- while it's still almost dark out -- he finds a little quiet corner of the room and writes her a letter. It's a little bit corny, but hell, who gives a fuck? Not the bounty hunter who's head over heels in love.
Hey, Slim. Surprise! A letter. No, I'm not going to give you another list of a hundred things I love about you. That'd be too easy, but see, I'd get lost in thought. Each thing would make me smile, and then each thing would lead me to a memory, and each memory would lead me to another smile, and sure enough, you'd wake up and look over and I'd be sitting here with something on the paper like #1: your eyes. And that would have been as far as I'd have gotten, and that'd be a sorry damn excuse for a letter. Anyhow. See? It's already happening, I'm grinning like a fucking fool for love which... I guess I am.
So here's what I wanted to say: I'm sitting here in the almost dark watching you sleep before I go out for a little run, and you look so peaceful. I'm glad we got that big pillow from Bar and even though I'd rather have it be me you're wrapping your arms around, hell, I get kind of a vicarious thrill just from seeing it because I know how soft your hands are, how tender your touch is, how good it feels to be in those arms of yours. I'm thinking back to the other night, before we raided the kitchen, when you said the word "contraction" and my heart kind of stopped and my mind raced and I thought fuck, I'm not ready for this. But you know what? Doesn't matter if I'm ready or not: whatever happens happens and we just get to kind of hang around and let it unfold. Ready or not, Slim, Junior will be here.
It's kind of a miniature miracle. Maybe not so miniature. I look at you, and you know what I see? Well, I see Beth, for sure, but beyond that I see a woman who's just about perfect, or just about perfect as far as I'm concerned. I see a woman who's not only beautiful and smart and sexy, but brave as hell, cool and competent, kind, loving, but not cloying or obnoxious or needy about it. I see someone who's not afraid to try new things, meet new circumstances, and kick fate in the ass when she doesn't like what it's dealt her. I see a woman who's got this presence of mind, who's not afraid to be herself, who's not afraid to speak up and demand what she needs. I see someone who's going to meet this next untested thing and be the best goddamn new mom in the universe.
Love you, Beth Durand. I couldn't have asked for a better match in a woman I love. You're... the one who gives me balance.
Be back soon, maybe even before you wake up and read this.
Spike
He leaves the letter right on the bedside table, tented up so she'll notice it right next to her little blue cup, then heads out for a nice slow jog around the lake. Odds are he will be back before she wakes up, but just in case... well, she'll know he's been thinking about her.
