not_that_spike | (no subject)

She's too little for flying lessons, but that doesn't mean he can't pretend they're flying. Hell, she's only a week old; she can't sit up by herself or any of that shit. Instead, he's got her tucked into the crook of his left arm and with his right, he's mock-flying the Swordfish.

"See, Junior, here's how it works. You turn the key and the ship hums into action. Then you check the fuel gauge, make sure the weapons systems are a go, and turn to the universe's most beautiful pilot, who just happens to be sitting right next to you." He turns to his right and plants a kiss on Beth's lips. "Then, you radio in -- radio's up here -- and ask Mom, I mean, Jet, to open the hatch and cut the gravitational system so you can fly her out into deep space." With that, he points up to the ceiling where the stars are faintly visible, even though it's light inside the room.

"And that's all there is to it."

Not really, but that's all there is to this little demonstration, anyhow. "Now, in the next lesson I'll teach you how to fuel up your spaceship. But in the meantime, we've got this." Behind them on the bed, the plush spacecraft they got on Europa sits waiting its turn patiently; he holds it up to Beth Junior who's still too young to play with it, but that doesn't stop him. "Beth, Swordfish. Swordfish, Beth Junior." He watches her, entranced, and then a huge smile breaks over his face. Turning to Beth, his eyes light up. "Hey. I think she smiled at me."

The mere concept pretty much melts his heart.

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There's this one moment of don't you dare go through any doors without me, but... he can't live that way. He can't. If he does, then fear and uncertainty win and that's one battle he's not giving in to, no matter what.

"Yeah, that sounds good. In just a minute." There's something he has to do first, and it mostly involves just holding her for a little while longer. It's not exactly like some weight got lifted or that they resolved anything, but sometimes, just talking is enough of a thing and sometimes, just holding her is enough of a thing. This time he reaches up and tucks the hair back behind her ears on both sides and rests the palms of his hands -- the hands that know how to fight and how to shoot a gun and how to kill equally as well as they know how to comfort and hold a baby -- against her cheeks. His thumbs trace the edges of her scar and it's beautiful, she's beautiful, she's everything in this moment.

And then his eyes soften and he gives her a genuine smile.

"Yeah." His lips brush across hers so very lightly. "Yeah, that's a great idea. I'm starving. I'll stay here with the tiny sleeping princess, make sure no big bad wolves try to climb in the window."

The only thing he can't do for Beth Junior is feed her, but if he really is her favorite thing since naptime, he'll find a way to distract her if that's what needs doing.

Finally, he pulls away just enough. "Thanks."

And then because he's a guy, his hands trail down her body to settle on her chest. "And I still think listing them separately wasn't cheating."

She just barely doesn't laugh, but all the amusement's there in her eyes and in her voice and in her grin anyway.

"You can't be serious. It was definitely cheating."

She's sure this is one thing they'll never agree on. But her hands cover his, and if she really minds that he cheated like that, you can hardly tell it.

He laughs. He laughs out loud; everything's right with the universe. It's all good. Turning her palms up, he kisses both of them, then folds her fingers over onto the kisses to seal them in.

"Love you, Slim. We'll be waiting for you when you get back." Like a solitary hawk surveying his chosen field, he watches as she moves about the room: putting on shoes, checking on Beth Junior, pressing a kiss to her sleeping forehead.

(Click.)

When she walks through the door, the shape of her body and the way she moves reminds him of poetry.