If they're going to lie there looking all contented...
One bounty hunter presses a kiss to the back of his little aijou's head, right to the spot where nothing but feathery light-tan fluff sticks out there in all directions like cotton candy, before rolling over onto his own back next to them. Junior's on her stomach looking down at Beth with a wavering wobbly head; her eyes look like she's the sleepy one in this particular trio. And yeah, he figures she deserves a rest. All that smiling's got to be tiring. What does the baby book call it? A new developmental plateau, some shit like that? That sounds about right.
He's so damn proud of her. Reaching over, he strokes her cheek with a hand that could just as easily kill but doesn't any more, then watches intently as she settles her head on Beth's chest with her face turned toward him. Her tiny eyelids flutter closed and he wants to say wake up, wake up, Elizabeth Marie, play with us some more, smile for us again but he doesn't. Whatever she wants: anything. He's not about to tell her she can't take a nap.
Once again he rolls onto his side and with his left eye takes a picture of Beth and her daughter lying there together: there's something fundamental and perfect about them right here, right now, right this moment. He could give a shit if Junior's not his genetically; he loves her. He loves her in a way he didn't know he was capable of feeling. Like some lion staking claim on his pride, he has a moment of fierce and utter protectiveness. He honestly never thought that two Beths would effectively be his whole life.
And he wouldn't trade it for the world. Not for the whole damn universe.
no subject
Date: 2006-11-19 09:04 am (UTC)If they're going to lie there looking all contented...
One bounty hunter presses a kiss to the back of his little aijou's head, right to the spot where nothing but feathery light-tan fluff sticks out there in all directions like cotton candy, before rolling over onto his own back next to them. Junior's on her stomach looking down at Beth with a wavering wobbly head; her eyes look like she's the sleepy one in this particular trio. And yeah, he figures she deserves a rest. All that smiling's got to be tiring. What does the baby book call it? A new developmental plateau, some shit like that? That sounds about right.
He's so damn proud of her. Reaching over, he strokes her cheek with a hand that could just as easily kill but doesn't any more, then watches intently as she settles her head on Beth's chest with her face turned toward him. Her tiny eyelids flutter closed and he wants to say wake up, wake up, Elizabeth Marie, play with us some more, smile for us again but he doesn't. Whatever she wants: anything. He's not about to tell her she can't take a nap.
Once again he rolls onto his side and with his left eye takes a picture of Beth and her daughter lying there together: there's something fundamental and perfect about them right here, right now, right this moment. He could give a shit if Junior's not his genetically; he loves her. He loves her in a way he didn't know he was capable of feeling. Like some lion staking claim on his pride, he has a moment of fierce and utter protectiveness. He honestly never thought that two Beths would effectively be his whole life.
And he wouldn't trade it for the world. Not for the whole damn universe.