Beth's kiss still fresh on his lips, he can't help but smile: this is a hell of an adventure. A domestic one, but an adventure nonetheless and the first one they've really had with the three of them. In his mind's eye he's always had this picture of the three of them crammed into the Swordfish going somewhere together, impractical as that is: hell, the ship's barely big enough for two. But this is a journey of a different kind, and it's one one he never ever thought he'd be making. It's a family thing and to say he's never considered himself family material is a hell of an understatement.
But damn if he isn't family material after all: he's doing for Beth and for Junior in a way his own dad didn't ever do for him and his mom, and even though it's weird as hell, it feels really good. It's still a little alien to him at times, but nothing is more important to him than their well-being and happiness, so whatever he has to do, he'll do it. He's said he'd die for them and he would, even though he'd rather not. But he'd do it to defend them without even thinking and that, to his bounty-hunter self, is the ultimate measure of commitment.
It's just the way he is.
Together they make their way down the stairs and through the bar to the portrait of the dogs playing poker. For a long minute he just stands in front of it looking, but no time like the present: linking arms with Beth, he gestures for her to touch the portrait, just like they'd seen Snow do in the past. There's this feeling that he can only equate to passing into hyperspace with a huge damn hangover, and then, suddenly, they're in another room.
It's the House of Arch and the main room there, and the walls are full of portraits and for a minute he's confused: they have to get to their rooms through one of these portraits. Tom said it was a church -- fitting enough -- and there it is. Right there on the wall with the rest of the portraits in this gallery: a church on top of a rugged crag with a big rose window and a cross, and the night sky above, a few stars starting to peek out. If it's not theirs, they'll know it soon enough.
This time he wants them to both do this thing together: it's going to be their first glimpse of their new rooms; Junior firmly in his arm, he raises Beth's hand in his and together, they touch the portrait of that church and again there's that weird hungover hyperspace feeling and...
(blink blink blink)
"Shit, Slim. Shit." A slow smile breaks out over his face; he doesn't let go of Beth's hand.
"Shit." Like it hasn't been said enough, and in a good way. It's really just his way of saying I can't fucking believe our good luck.
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But damn if he isn't family material after all: he's doing for Beth and for Junior in a way his own dad didn't ever do for him and his mom, and even though it's weird as hell, it feels really good. It's still a little alien to him at times, but nothing is more important to him than their well-being and happiness, so whatever he has to do, he'll do it. He's said he'd die for them and he would, even though he'd rather not. But he'd do it to defend them without even thinking and that, to his bounty-hunter self, is the ultimate measure of commitment.
It's just the way he is.
Together they make their way down the stairs and through the bar to the portrait of the dogs playing poker. For a long minute he just stands in front of it looking, but no time like the present: linking arms with Beth, he gestures for her to touch the portrait, just like they'd seen Snow do in the past. There's this feeling that he can only equate to passing into hyperspace with a huge damn hangover, and then, suddenly, they're in another room.
It's the House of Arch and the main room there, and the walls are full of portraits and for a minute he's confused: they have to get to their rooms through one of these portraits. Tom said it was a church -- fitting enough -- and there it is. Right there on the wall with the rest of the portraits in this gallery: a church on top of a rugged crag with a big rose window and a cross, and the night sky above, a few stars starting to peek out. If it's not theirs, they'll know it soon enough.
This time he wants them to both do this thing together: it's going to be their first glimpse of their new rooms; Junior firmly in his arm, he raises Beth's hand in his and together, they touch the portrait of that church and again there's that weird hungover hyperspace feeling and...
(blink blink blink)
"Shit, Slim. Shit." A slow smile breaks out over his face; he doesn't let go of Beth's hand.
"Shit." Like it hasn't been said enough, and in a good way. It's really just his way of saying I can't fucking believe our good luck.