Hell, if anyone's paying attention that close, he'll scoop up Vlad and keep him safe and Beth's got to know that. Hopefully he won't have to do it, but fuck if he's going to let that kid come to harm at all.
On the other hand, the fact that she doesn't want to share him fills him with this happy macho contentment, makes his arm tighten around her just that much more. He has about zero interest in being shared on most levels: if you look up one-woman man in the encyclopedia, his picture's probably next to the damn thing. Still, he appreciates the hell out of her.
"Shit. I wish we could relax here for hours. It's nice." Nice having her and Junior in his arms -- he never gets to hold the baby this much any more -- and nice being out of the cloak. It starts getting a little claustrophobic in there sometimes. More than a couple nights, he's dreamed he was back on that operating table in restraints while they took his eye; he attributes every single one of those dreams to being stuck under the cloak for so long.
But it's working.
But shit, shit, shit, he misses things like this. All he wants are his Beths.
And a smoke, but he doesn't want that enough to risk compromising their safety. When his own eyelids start to feel heavy, he resettles to sit up just a little bit straighter: he's not going back under that cloak until he has to. He wants every damn second of this private time with them.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2007-05-18 06:23 am (UTC)On the other hand, the fact that she doesn't want to share him fills him with this happy macho contentment, makes his arm tighten around her just that much more. He has about zero interest in being shared on most levels: if you look up one-woman man in the encyclopedia, his picture's probably next to the damn thing. Still, he appreciates the hell out of her.
"Shit. I wish we could relax here for hours. It's nice." Nice having her and Junior in his arms -- he never gets to hold the baby this much any more -- and nice being out of the cloak. It starts getting a little claustrophobic in there sometimes. More than a couple nights, he's dreamed he was back on that operating table in restraints while they took his eye; he attributes every single one of those dreams to being stuck under the cloak for so long.
But it's working.
But shit, shit, shit, he misses things like this. All he wants are his Beths.
And a smoke, but he doesn't want that enough to risk compromising their safety. When his own eyelids start to feel heavy, he resettles to sit up just a little bit straighter: he's not going back under that cloak until he has to. He wants every damn second of this private time with them.