(no subject)

[not_that_spike]

He's never been the kind of guy to go in for pacing. It's annoying, never mind being a waste of time. Nah, other people can pace all they want. What he does is sit on his ass and smoke. It's a much more enjoyable way of fretting. In between smokes, he picks at some of the paint splattered on his skin. Most of it's gone and what he realizes for the first time as he looks down at the tiny flecks on his flesh is that it's almost the same color blue as Beth's bathing suit.

She'll like that.

It's detail work, cutting in paint to the sides of a ceiling and without a damn roller, it's hard covering the rest. Hard on the back. But if Beth could do it back in Room 8 over the bar, he can sure as fuck do it in their rooms in the House of Arch. Especially in the nursery; the ceiling's a little lower there and he rigged a kind of little low scaffolding thing so he could get back and forth with the paint more easily. And once Junior's room was done -- at least the blue part -- and he moved her crib back in there, and the rocking chair, and the bureau... well, he started on their room: his and Beth's. It's been a fun little challenge and he knows she'll like it when she comes back.

But he's getting tired of waiting. Real tired, and tired of alone and there's no damn reason to be all alone. Beth's not. She's out there with Hero and some Russian girl named Natalya and some twins who are doctors, and the astronaut and her baby. And hell, he can be a downright sociable guy when he actually sets his mind to it, and that's why he's sitting in the living room smoking instead of pacing, fresh coffee on in the kitchen, the partially built Lego dream castle (she did say there was no such thing as thinking too big for a dream house) moved to one side.

Hopefully, Tom will be here pretty soon. He's always kind of hated sitting around waiting.

Comments

[young_tmriddle]

Tom chimes the painting.

"Hullo, Spike. May I come in?"

He could walk in, of course, but that's simply not polite.

[not_that_spike]

"Yo."

Leaning back against the sofa, he nods like Tom could actually see him or something. "Yeah. Come on in."

As unused to having guests as he is, he's still really glad for the company. Being alone gets lonely.

[young_tmriddle]

He does so, and sits down in one of the chairs near the sofa.

"So I take it you're still on your own? How are you holding up?"

[not_that_spike]

"I'm okay." It's his standard line. It usually means either yeah, I'm great or fuck if I know; I hate this shit. Here, it's a hell of a lot closer to the second than the first.

In fact, he sits forward and looks Tom straight in the face, stabbing out the cigarette in the ashtray. "Actually, this sucks. I hate waiting."

That's the honest truth of the matter. He waited for Julia for three years and he knows he can wait forever for Beth and Junior if he has to. But he'd really rather not.

[young_tmriddle]

"I don't know how you can bloody well stand it. I can't stand it when Door goes off to appointments on her own. She has to deal with certain clans who still don't trust me or don't care for men. It bothers me to let her, although as she points out, I'm more at risk in the Underside than she is."

He shifts in his seat, wishing suddenly for a scotch.

"How much longer do you think they'll be?"

[not_that_spike]

"I... don't know." Letting out a deep breath, he glances toward the portrait like Beth's going to come walking through all of a sudden. But she doesn't, and all he can really do is shrug. "At first it was going to be a week. Then it was going to be a couple weeks. Some days I wonder if there's an end in sight."

It's not Beth's fault and it's not anybody's fault: it's a complicated situation. "Door thinks you're at risk in her world; Beth thinks I'm at risk in hers. It sucks, doesn't it. I mean... what can you do? You have to let them do their thing, but... I don't know about you, but sometimes I think I'm all done being left behind."

His voice isn't angry. It's just that his words are painfully honest. "You want something to drink? I have coffee going in there and... other stuff, too." Fuck knows he could use something.

[young_tmriddle]

"Other stuff would suit me just fine."

While Spike might not sound angry, Tom knows frustration when he hears it.

"Well, she might think I'm at risk, but I carry on with what must be done. She's gone to certain meetings, and I've followed, without her knowing. I know you can't freely go to Beth's world. Perhaps there are ways to get round that, if you need to be there."

There are always ways around things if you're a Slytherin.

[not_that_spike]

When Tom tells him he'd like a drink Spike stands and starts to head into the kitchen, but at his guest's next utterance he stops and turns around.

"How do you... wait. Hold that thought." Maybe this Tom guy isn't exactly what he seems to be: there's something in his voice and in his eyes, and damn if he's not going to find out exactly what that is. But first, there's that other stuff to get out of the kitchen. When he comes back into the living room he's got a bottle of tequila and a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of vodka and two glasses; he sets it all down on the table.

"Take your pick." For himself, he's sticking with tequila but he knows that's an acquired taste, not for everyone. Taking his seat again on the couch, he pours himself a glass and sits back with it. "Yo, Tom. What exactly is it you're telling me?" He knows they're both capable guys. They can each handle themselves in almost any situation. Hell, he's been to Cooksfield and it hasn't killed him, and no damn amazon or whatever's going to get in his way. But if Tom has a way of following Door without her knowing... shit. He'd sure as hell be curious to find out exactly what that might be and how it works and if it's some sort of, well, transferable skill or if it's only something that works for Tom in Door's world.

Strictly in case of emergency, that's all.

[young_tmriddle]

Tom goes, of course, for the bottle of whiskey. Pouring a glass, he sits back as well.

"Mind you, I've not done it often, and even then it was mostly in the early days of our relationship when I had more than a little of 1954 still in me - I was a bit disinclined to believe she didn't need my protection. She disabused me of that fact quickly enough."

With that disclaimer out of the way, Tom continues. "I used an Invisibility Cloak. It's a rather rare artifact from the Wizarding World, but it works to conceal your movements. You must be wary of making noise or placing yourself in locations in which you might be detected. I daresay it would work well enough on Beth's world."

[not_that_spike]

He has the glass of tequila raised halfway to his mouth when Tom starts talking, but this... requires a little attention. What he says makes sense; Beth doesn't need his protection out there. Following her would be bad, he doesn't really have a good reason, it would be purely selfish... and it would make him a fuck of a lot happier than he is staying here. And he really wants to respect Beth's wishes. Still, the universe hasn't ever been real kind to him and he has this nagging feeling it's never actually going to be generous.

And then Tom says the words invisibility cloak and those... well, the words themselves aren't new to him. He knows what invisible means and he sure as shit knows what a cloak is, but when you put the two of them together, it's one of those danger, Will Robinson, this does not compute moments. The concept almost makes sense, but becoming invisible isn't possible. It doesn't work; a way of doing it hasn't been invented in his time, never mind in Tom's 1954.

Maybe if he knew more about the science behind it, or if it was somehow, somewhere, somewhat within the realm of possibilities, but... well, there has to be a an eloquent and reasonable way to find out more.

"Huh?"

That... wasn't quite it.

[young_tmriddle]

"It's something you have to see, I think. Shall I fetch it?"

He takes a drink of his whiskey and nods. "I'll be right back."

When he returns, a grey cloak is draped over his arm.

"It's simple, really. Disillusionment and invisibilty charms are woven into the fabric. Once you place it over yourself-"

He swings the cloak around his shoulders, leaving only his head visible.

"-everything cover becomes invisible."

[not_that_spike]

Fuck.

Fuck.

"How..."

Fuck! Walking all the way around Tom, all he can see is the guy's head; he takes a long sip of tequila before he speaks again. "Cover up all the way and move someplace. I want to see if I can see you."

It's pretty damn unbelievable. He's seen a lot of weird shit since getting to this place, but this might just take the whole goddamn cake, icing and all.

[young_tmriddle]

"I'd be happy to."

He grins and slides the cloak over his head, covering himself completely. He quietly walks across the room.

[not_that_spike]

"Whoa." A slow whistle escapes, and he talks to where he thinks Tom might be. "That's pretty damn incredible. Where the hell does a guy get something like that?"

He doesn't have a whole lot of Woolongs left on his card, but he'd give them all for something like this. Something that would let him be just a little bigger part of Beth and Junior's life right now, because without that he feels helpless. Worse than that, he feels useless.

[young_tmriddle]

Tom tugs the cloak off of his head, leaving his hair slightly mussed.

"I've no real use of it any longer."

Aside from the occasional use for strictly entertainment purposes, it's a very expensive piece of fabric.

"Would you like to borrow it for a time? It might serve, if you'd like to slip by unnoticed. If there's an emergency, of course."

Tom understands the nature of these kinds of emergencies.

[not_that_spike]

"Huh." For the life of him, he can't figure out how someone would ever stop being able to use something like this. It's like a childhood dream come true: with this thing, a guy could go anywhere unseen. He could do anything and no one would know.

There's just one problem that he can see.

"Yeah, I might. Except... well..." Pausing, he he scratches his chin. "Before you make that offer, you ought to know: I don't think the universe likes me a hell of a lot. It... I have a problem with the doors. They haven't always been kind and... going out into Beth's world, I couldn't promise I'd be able to find a way back. I'd hate to be stuck out there and not able to get it back to you." If he did get stuck out there, returning a cloak would probably be the least of his worries, but he has to tell Tom.

He has to do it. It all has to be out there on the table.

[young_tmriddle]

"I'd hate for you to be stuck out there as well, but this is a thing. It's a costly thing, but nothing I can't live without. Look, you need it more than I, and besides, one day you might have something you can spare which I will need."

The Underside, after all, thrives on a commerce of debts owed and received.

[not_that_spike]

Shit. He might not even ever use the thing, and if Tom's that easy come, easy go about it...

"Okay, then." He kind of hates being indebted, but... "Better to be prepared, right?" His eyes move to the cloak in Tom's arms: it just looks like this shimmery gray and brown and blue thing from here and he has no fucking idea how it works, but it works great. "Thanks."

He nods to the glass of whiskey on the table. "Hey. Sit down with me. Have a drink."

Every damn time he talks to this guy, some weight or other gets lifted off his shoulder. If he didn't know better, he'd think Tom was almost like some kind of guardian angel, but he does know better. He saw something in Tom's eyes earlier that was pretty much the opposite of what an angel's supposed to look like.

As if he actually knows.

[young_tmriddle]

He happily takes Spike up on his suggestion. It's not as if he's planning to call in a favor, but one never knows what one might need in the future.

He folds the cloak into a neat square and places it on the table.

"There. Use it if you like, return it when you can. Shall we change the subject for the moment? How have you been keeping yourself busy lately?"

[not_that_spike]

Reclaiming his place on the sofa, he gives a wry little grin. "Besides teaching Ingress how to kick your ass? Not a hell of a lot." He gives a small nod to the Legos. "Building shit. Beth and Beth were here a few days ago and that was... great. But really, not doing much. Watching the seasons change outside these windows, wondering where the hell out there is, shit like that."

For a moment, his eyes shine with a little bit of shrewdness. He's a lot more calculating than he lets on to most people. Yeah, he might be wasting time, but that doesn't mean his brain's been idle.

It doesn't mean that at all. Door said she could open any door anywhere, onto any world. While he's been running and working out and building Legos and redesigning, he's also been doing what Jet accused him of never doing: thinking a hundred moves ahead.

"Oh, and I've been painting the ceilings in the bedrooms." His smile gets a little bit bigger. "Back in our room over the bar, Beth painted glow-in-the-dark constellations on the ceiling. I wanted to return the favor, and do something in the baby's room too. She gets the solar system. I'm... not much of an artist, but it's looking pretty damn good. I think they'll like it when they get back."

[young_tmriddle]

"How clever. I'm sure she'll love it. Both Beths, that is."

Tom doesn't busy himself with home improvements, unless you consider rearranging book shelves home improvement.

"Do you and Beth think you might have more children? If you don't mind me asking, that is."

[not_that_spike]

Dropping his eyes to the drink in his hand, he lets out an almost inaudible sigh. "I... well. I don't know." First they both have to be in the same general vicinity. And then the contraceptive nanobots have to expire and with the way time's been all kinds of fucked up for them, who the hell knows how much longer that'll be? Then there's the whole I'm really not father material thing that's been drummed into his head forever, despite how he feels about Beth Junior. "I'm... not sure I could ever love another kid as much as I love our little Beth."

He's pretty damn sure Beth probably doesn't want to have any more kids, or at least that's the impression he's got. Hell, she didn't ever want any in the first place.

"I know it's not a great answer, but it's the one I've got."

Tequila's such a pretty color. He never noticed that before.

No one in their right mind would actually want some bounty hunter as the father of their kid... not on purpose. And honestly, he's a little surprised at how raw the question leaves him. Hell, who doesn't have betrayal and abandonment issues? No one he knows.

"How about you and Door?" A couple years ago, he never could have imagined himself sitting in a place like this, having this conversation.

[young_tmriddle]

"We shall, eventually. We must, is more like - the Opener line must continue. Door's only just turned twenty. We've time."

Truth be told, Tom would just as soon wait. He's seen what the other women around them have gone through with their pregnancies, and he's in no hurry to see his Door in discomfort or pain, even for the reward of a child of their own.

There is plenty of time.

[not_that_spike]

Time is one thing he's never, ever going to take for granted again, as long as this universe of theirs lets him keep cheating death. But that's his experience, not necessarily anyone else's, so for the moment he just nods. "Door... she's all right. I like her."

Milliways is a hell of a place: nothing's really what it seems. This place -- Tom and Door's house -- is like this little island of magical sanity in the middle of all the craziness. He's a lot more appreciative of being able to live here than Tom can probably even guess.

Or maybe he can: Spike doesn't know him all that well. His eyes travel to that gray cloak folded up on the table; reaching out, he tests it. The fabric is softer than he imagined, almost like velvet. "So, Tom. How's this thing actually work?" He knows there's some kind of charm or whatever worked into it, but to him, magic isn't something that even exists. It's something for little kids to read about in stories: he's never known it to have any damn practical applications and he's seen a lot of shit in his 27 years.

Then again, his nanobots probably look a hell of a lot like magic to someone who doesn't know about the technology. Maybe this is just more of the same.

[young_tmriddle]

"It's woven from the hair of a magical creature - a demiguise - which can turn itself invisible. The cloaks are woven by wizards and witches highly skilled in charms, and they engage the natural magic with charms that enable a person to activate the invisibilty when they wrap the cloaks around themselves. They're rare things; this one was quite costly, but again, you've a need for it more than I, and I've enough gold if I ever feel the need to replace it."

[not_that_spike]

Well, shit: he doesn't want to take it if it's that valuable. On the other hand, it'd give him an edge out there if he ever did find himself following Beth. And Tom wouldn't have offered the damn thing if he didn't want him to have it.

It's just that he's not used to people just giving him things without expecting something in return. But this isn't out there, and he's not bounty hunting; it's not like those other times at all.

"Okay. I'll take real good care of it for you." It seems the least he can offer. He would've paid Tom for it if he wanted, but the guy just finished telling him he has plenty enough gold to get himself another one if he wants, so there's really not much else he can do about the cloak.

What he does do right now is reach over and top off the whiskey in Tom's glass, freshens up his own tequila. "It's been a hell of a long time since I sat around having a friendly relaxed drink with someone. Kids sure as fuck change things."

Yeah, he's not in the bar much any more, but he's never exactly been some social butterfly. Hanging out alone or with one or two other people has always been his preferred way of spending time.

"You seen this place since you gave us the rooms? I mean, the nursery and everything?" He might have to give the grand tour.

[young_tmriddle]

Tom is much more social than he's ever been in his entire life, thanks to Milliways and to Door. He rather enjoys sitting and chatting with others now, when once, in his previous life, it had been a strain to interact with those he thought were beneath him.

It's much better now.

"They certainly do change things. Try having a little one about who can Open anywhere she likes, including your bedroom, and no lock or locking charm will work against her. That lead to some most awkward moments when Ingress came back home."

He stands.

"I should very much like to see the paint job."

[not_that_spike]

That kind of makes him laugh. "Lucky for us, Beth Junior's just your standard-issue baby. She's not even walking yet, so... no worries about her unlocking much of anything." Glass in hand, he leads Tom over to the portrait of the bedroom and they step through together.

This traveling by portrait thing still makes him stop and think, but he doesn't try to figure it out too hard: it works, and that's pretty much all that matters. It's also a good thing that he's cleaned up and put the place back together since Beth and Junior were last here. He was going to start sleeping in the bedroom again, but then he started painting and... hell, it still doesn't feel right without Beth.

The ceiling in here is a nice blue, and he's just done the first coat of the constellations up there; they'll be brighter with the second coat which he kind of hopes to do tomorrow. They're not real fancy, but a couple constellations are recognizable: Orion and the Big Dipper and he kind of had to put up Capricorn and Virgo and Gemini. It doesn't matter to him that they'd never all be seen in the night sky at the same time of year no matter what planet you were on: that's his family, and now they're always in here with him.

"Not much of a professional paint job." His shrug is entirely without apology; he nods to the archway. "And through there is little Beth's room." It's got the same blue for a base coat, but the planets are done in different colors. When he's done, each one will be outlined in glow-in-the-dark paint so she has something to look up at when she's trying to get to sleep.

He kind of figures she was born to the stars anyhow.

[young_tmriddle]

"I think it's brilliant. If you don't mind an addition-"

He waves his wand and in between the painted planets and constellations, tiny sparkles of white, like the cloudy clusters of an arm of the Milky Way appear.

"I can remove it if you don't care for it. It just sprung to mind as something to do."

[not_that_spike]

He just... laughs. "Shit. And to think I did it the old-fashioned way. That's fucking gorgeous. I never would've thought of that." He never would have been able to do it, either: he's no artist.

But he's doing his best.

"Little Beth will love that." So will his Beth, for that matter. It'll all make a nice surprise for the next time they get to see each other.

"Thanks."

[young_tmriddle]

"You're very welcome. I can be a bit of a show-off at times, I'm afraid. I'm glad you like it."

[not_that_spike]

"Hell, it's great." And everyone deserves to show off what they're good at. He doesn't harbor any grudges about that kind of shit.

Still, he's glad he did most of the work on his own. It means more, he thinks, that it's been his own effort even if it would've been nicer or fancier or easier to just ask the local magic guy to wave a wand and have the ceilings done. After all, it's a bit of himself up there, imperfections and all.

There's not much more to see in the bedrooms; they make their way back to the living room and the far more macho combination of alcohol bottles and Legos and books on shelves.

And costly cloaks that turn people invisible when they wear them; he moves that away from the bottles to the relative safety of the couch. He sets down his tequila glass. It's a little too early for him to drink a lot: he still wants to head over to the lake and get in some exercise before it gets dark out.

[young_tmriddle]

The local magic guy tends to be rather unimaginative with paint schemes, so it's just as well.

"I should probably not drink another glass. I had a bit too much on Saturday last. Sleeping in my study is not as pleasant as sleeping in my bed."

He quirks a grin. Door makes her point without much fuss.

[not_that_spike]

"Take a rain check on another visit, then." With a nod, he gathers up the three bottles and Tom's glass and puts them back in the kitchen. He'll save his own remaining tequila for later.

For when he can't sleep, maybe.

"And I'm going to head out to the lake. Stay in shape. I mean, I'm teaching Ingress to kick your ass, but not mine... I hope." Laughing, he shakes his head a little bit. "Got to keep in shape so I can stay a step ahead of her. Thanks for coming by."

It's been nice having some company.

"And thanks for lending me the cloak. I hope I don't need it but if I do..."

Not a lot more needs to be said about that. It's a guy thing, that acceptance without having to analyze, and he's glad he doesn't have to keep going on about it.

"And... on Junior's behalf, thanks for the Milky Way."