(no subject)

Usually when he comes through the door looking smug as hell, he's got a memory of something private with Beth on his mind. Tonight, though... well, if he was a cat, she'd be able to see the feathers sticking out from between his lips even while he adamantly denied the fact he swallowed the damn canary. Opening the door to the room a little more quickly than usual, supplies tucked under his arm, he still stops at the sight of Beth sitting on that blanket on the floor playing with the baby, Beth Junior grinning back at her mom with a toothless smile bigger than any sunrise he's ever been privileged to witness. Both of them turn at the sound of the door opening, though, and he wishes -- just like he does every time he catches them in the middle of playing -- he had the camera with him. It's one of those note to self, just carry the damn camera everywhere you go, cowboy: you think you'd remember that by now moments.

But he catches Beth's eye and, setting the towels and pillow and tube of Desitin down on the bureau, lets the smile that threatened the whole walk up the stairs finally break loose.

"Hey." In a fraction of a moment he's down on the floor there with them, running a fingertip over the baby's face before turning to plant a kiss right on Beth's lips. "You'll never fucking guess what just happened."

It's the end of the universe: anything's fair game. But if it was that unexpected for him, he really doubts it's something Beth's even thought about herself. He stretches out one leg but rests his other arm on his knee; the tie catches on it and drapes over his forearm. And damn if he isn't still smiling that smug-as-hell smile.