(no subject)

[not_that_spike]

A few weeks ago, standing on a hill looking out at the lights of Paris in the distance, Beth told him what she missed about not being here. It was something so simple and so perfect that it made him yearn for this place like he hadn't in months.

The way you smell.
Especially after a shower.
Especially after a shower I took with you.

It broke his heart a little bit: of all the things for her to miss, of course, it was the one thing that was so unattainable out there. Even after they all settled inconspicuously into a place in Paris, only Beth and Hero knew he was there and that brought its own difficulties, trying to stay hidden in an apartment full of women and kids. It's been a challenge and he's never shied away from those, but catching a little break sometimes would be a good thing. As much as he's tried to let Beth have her privacy, he knows it's been tough all around. Hell, there are days he's wanted nothing more than to step out into the streets of Paris all by himself without having to check in, without having to be a constant unseen presence.

But people do what they have to do, and they manage under all sorts of situations that aren't ideal. If what they've been through the past six months hasn't been enough to tear them apart, he guesses they have a pretty damn fine foundation for their relationship. Besides, he loves her as much as ever.

More. More every day, and that... well, hell, it's something to treasure. So now, watching Beth dry off from that shower they finally got to take together, he reaches for that pack of Marsboros sitting out on the bureau.

"Hey. Slim. Mind if I smoke?" It's only half a joke: after all this time he might just hate it, but then again, he might not. In the other room, Junior's still sleeping soundly. Smokes and lighter in hand, towel wrapped around his waist and another over his shoulders, he moves to Beth's side and holds her in his arms and kisses her like he's wanted to do every damn day of his life since he first met her and this time, there's no listening for approaching footsteps or worrying about staying out from under the precious cloak for too long. It's just the two of them, and they're home, home, home. They can't stay, but they can sure enjoy the hell out of it while they're here.

Comments

[stbethadettes]

"I wish you would."

She plans to enjoy a cigarette herself in a minute, while the baby's still napping.

But for the moment, before she touches a cigarette and before he lights up his own, she takes the edges of her drooping towel in her hands and, like it's suddenly a pair of blue cotton wings, curls her arms around him, and the simple act of wrapping her towel around the both of them fills her with no small amount of long-denied satisfaction.

"In a second or two," she adds, practically speaking to his collarbone, and after a moment in which she just stands there as if she could physically soak him in and then finally plants a kiss so far back on the side of his face that it nearly gets lost in the hair near his ear, she keeps to her word and releases him to light a cigarette.

[not_that_spike]

Just one more kiss, one more embrace. One more, one more: every day a honeymoon, every moment the only moment. These are lessons he's learned slowly and over the course of time, but he's not too old to learn a few new tricks. Patience has been one of them, not that they wasted any damn time at all once they got back here and saw Junior safely into her crib. All the... everything of the past half year can finally be put aside for a moment or two. Now they can just breathe. Now they can just be Spike and Beth, not the woman with Yorick's baby and the invisible other last man on the planet and while being the other invisible last man on the planet has been a hell of a weight to bear, it's probably nothing compared to what Beth's been carrying the whole time.

He's got such respect and admiration for her. He also happens to love the hell out of her in this way he can't define, can't quantify, can't put his finger on. All he knows is that when she's at his side, his whole body's electric and when she's not at his side, his whole heart lights up at the very thought of her.

Opening up that pack of smokes, he taps two out: the first for Beth, the other for him and once she's taken it between those slim strong fingers of hers, he flicks on the lighter and watches it illuminate the green of her eyes. She's so beautiful: she takes his breath away and always, always has, from the first time she ran the tips of her fingers over that scar on his arm. Together they sit on the edge of the bed -- their bed -- and he brings over the ashtray.

There's only one thing for him to say.

"Love you, Beth." He lets his fingers trace the strong lines of her arm and he revels in every last sensation.

[stbethadettes]

The smile she gives him is half flirtation and half lazy contentment but all appreciation.

"I thought you might. I love you, too."

Leaning in, she steals a faintly smoke-tinged kiss, and then props herself back on one hand, her towel secured around her.

She'd barely gotten to enjoy living here before she went out to Kansas with Hero, and even though it's familiar and she's lived here and so many of the things she's collected since finding this place are at home here, it feels a little bit alien right now.

Not unpleasantly so, just... a little bit alien.

The good thing is that she feels more relaxed already, and it's probably all because of the shower but fuck if she's complaining.

"It feels strange, doesn't it? Being back, I mean."

And though she's never been accused of thinking with her stomach all that much before, already she's starting to think with mild excitement about all of the possibilities there are for dinner before they have to go back.

[not_that_spike]

Strange is kind of an understatement. "It's like walking back into a dream, but a really nice one." When she leans back he does the same, because his fingers tell him they're not done tracing the length and breadth of her skin. He doesn't really give a damn when his towel slips off: this is home. It's the one place he doesn't have to cover up.

"It's like... you know you're going to have to wake up sooner or later and get back to the everyday business of living, but you sure as hell get to enjoy it while you can." Just in case there's any doubt in Beth's mind about his intentions, he goes that extra step. "Yeah, being back is great. But when it's time to go back to Paris, I'm going with you and Junior."

There, that's out of the way. He had to say it, had to make it perfectly clear. "In the meantime, I see chocolate-covered strawberries and a whole damn pile of fresh clean diapers in our future." Smoking's such old habit he's not having any trouble at all falling back into it: it's like meeting up with an old friend again after half a year's absence, like no time had passed at all between meetings. It's been six months since he did one of his own Jeet Kune Do workouts, six months since he smoked, six months since he slept in his own bed. But his destiny's all tied up with Beth and her destiny: he knows what waits for him if he goes back to Mars and he's not going to do it, never going to live through that shit again. His fate's in her hands right now, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Remember when we first moved in here, how strange it felt? Like... someone dropped a whole package of good luck on us and we couldn't quite believe it was right or that it belonged to us?" He bets she does. "That's what it seems like all over again."

It's a nice stolen moment and he doesn't have a single complaint. Even knowing it's temporary, that's okay, because it's private uncloaked time with the woman he loves.

[stbethadettes]

"Yeah."

She has to nod in agreement with that.

"This feels a lot like that."

It's probably thwarting the plans of his hands, which have barely been more than a few inches from her since they got Junior settled in her crib, but thinking better of her position, she straightens again and moves closer to him, one leg folding in front of her and the other curling around where he's sitting. She tucks her cigarette between her lips, and wordlessly uses the towel he had draped of his shoulders to catch the few water droplets that have strayed to his neck and shoulders and back.

It's an act that by itself would seem luxurious enough at this point. Doing it here in the comfort and privacy of their own little apartment is a little slice of temporary heaven.

And she can't help but take this opportunity to look at him, not when he's barely covered by towels like this.

He's always been lean, but he's even leaner now. The ridges of his hipbones and collarbones seem to stand out more sharply, and she's no less attracted to him now than she's always been but she wishes he got to eat his fill more frequently and didn't have to be quite as active, especially for the reasons they've had to be.

(He could probably say the same about her.)

Of course, she also wishes they could bring Nat and Vlad and Ciba back here. And that she could tell them about Spike. There's a lot she'd like, and her hopes and expectations have generally been very firmly grounded since she adjusted to post-plague life.

Placing the towel back around his neck, she smiles at him. "I bet I wouldn't have much of a problem getting used to it here all over again."

Maybe they should send an owl or leave a note with the bar for Tom while they're here. She's almost impressed they got in with no trouble after so long.

[not_that_spike]

Anywhere with you. Anywhere in the whole damn universe with you, Beth Durand. Here, there, wherever: doesn't matter so long as we're together. He shoots her a contented little smile. "Yeah, me either. Maybe when this is all over, we'll get a chance to find out just how easy it is." Unless the door won't open for them -- always a possibility -- this probably won't be the trip where they find out how little time it would take them to fall back into old habits.

Not that he'd mind.

He's fatalistic; he's always been fatalistic. It's part of his nature, his make-up. "Tell you one thing, though, Slim. I'm not leaving here without getting one of those really big hamburgers." Any hot meal, actually: she's been great about sharing with him, finding food for him. Hero's been good about it too, but things have been scarce enough and he hasn't wanted either of them to risk anything or go without just to slip him an extra bit of food. Actually, he's gotten real good at foraging. Stealing food's nothing new for him; Tom's cloak only makes it a different kind of challenge.

Beth's so beautiful. He's had a lot more opportunity to study her the past six months than she has to study him. It's one of the few things he actually gets to do out there to distraction, and he's often thought the only thing he'd trade it for is studying her back here, unfettered, unhidden, without having to be sneaky or surreptitious about it. The months on the move have chiseled and defined her and she reminds him of the way she was when they first met, after she'd just found this place. Hell, he could spend their whole time back here just making out with her like some lovesick teenager; that'd be okay with him.

His hand goes to the back of her neck and he pulls her over for that one more kiss. "Can I tell you how good it is to be sitting here in the open together, Slim? Just getting to talk to you and hold you?" Talk about things he's missed: she's been elusively out of his grasp most of the past six months. Right there, but so often untouchable. Yeah, he'd be able to get used to it here all over again real easily.

[stbethadettes]

"You certainly can." Having put the towel back in place around his neck, there's nothing for her arms to do but sneak around him, under his own arms. She can't help but notice, though, that he doesn't seem the least bit surprised by what they're doing and does seem a little bit pleased. "Then maybe I can tell you about how good it is to see you."

She doesn't have any expectation that they're really going to sit here and spend precious time just talking about how goddamn great it is.

It really has been difficult to take her eyes off of him. Her eyes are no less guilty of trying to make up for lost time than his hands are.

She presses a kiss to the curve of his shoulder.

"We should definitely get hamburgers later." They were one of the things she wanted the most while she was pregnant. She bets Junior would have a great time with some little pieces of hamburger. "Or sooner."

There's no denying an increase in appetite since she's gotten here.

[not_that_spike]

"As soon as Junior wakes up and gets settled. She might enjoy the hell out of it down at the bar, but if you think it'd be too much too soon, I can bring food up here." He's not going to waste any time foraging around in the kitchen here. Not unless it turns out they're staying for a while, in which case they can stock up. But everything in there's been there for six months, and... well... uh... no.

Just no: his hands are too busy on her skin and it's like they haven't touched the whole time they've been out there, but that's not true. They have. They've had stolen moments. They've held each other. They've taken advantage of that cloak in more ways than it was probably intended: it's been a fun challenge being that creative. And the times they've had together have been both a little frantic and really damn sweet, and he loves her and he'll do it all over again. Being out there hidden doesn't mean he can't live his life: his life's with Beth and with Junior wherever they are, and whatever it means he has to do, he'll do it.

While she's right here, he pushes the hair back from its resting place on the side of her face. "Hey. Hey, Slim. You didn't tell me you were packing supplies in there." Between his fingers, there's a little old-fashioned cardboard matchbook; it reads Tropics on Mars and has a picture of swaying palm trees on it. It's been a long time since he's been able to do any little magic tricks for her, and they're fun. Plus, they make her smile and damn, he lives for that smile of hers.

He loves her so much: more than he imagined possible. There's only one rival for his attention, and that's the little one sleeping in the next room.

It's so nice to have a family. Some day, he'd like to take all of them to Tropics, or to New France, or to Europa. With Junior on the outside this time.

Yeah. Maybe some day. For now, he's going wherever they go. The matchbook sits in his palm, his own cigarette smoking all by itself in the ashtray. He hasn't missed that as much as he thought he might, but he's missed open moments like this.

[stbethadettes]

She isn't about to wake Junior up before she's ready to get up, assuming she doesn't sleep right up until they're ready to go. Her little girl deserves a nap in the crib she hasn't gotten to sleep in for six months. They can see how Junior likes the bar later. She'll probably be all right with it -- even kind of fascinated by it -- for a while. But she might tire of it easily. She's a pretty good-natured almost-one-year-old, but it's not like she remembers the last time she was in the bar and it could be a little overwhelming.

They won't know until they try.

A smile lights up Beth's face at the sight of the book of matches he presents for her inspection, and her hand closes around it. And around his hand.

"Yeah. I started running out of room in my bags, so I decided to pack things behind my ears."

One thing's for sure: he might not have done many of these little parlor tricks for a while, but he's not showing any signs of being rusty. He's just as seamless now as he was six months ago.

"You should see what's behind the other."

It'd be a great time for that cigarette she was thinking about earlier... if it wasn't so fucking nice to be just like this. She has this urge to touch the side of his neck when he talks or to lean her head against his chest.

[not_that_spike]

This, he thinks, would be a good time to gather up all the little things he's missed of theirs back on Earth: a couple extra shirts, some clean underwear, socks, things like that. One of the things he missed most was that picture book he made for Beth and Junior. He's not so sure he wants to be carrying it around with them out there: what if it falls into the wrong hands? There'd be a fuck of a lot of explaining they'd have to do.

He wanted it mostly in case they could never get back here. Because he made it for Beth and for Junior; because it's a catalog of all the places they've been.

Well. They can think about that when they think about it; he won't try to replace what they have here out there. It's a completely separate world.

And screw the cigarette; he moves the ashtray off the bed, stubs out that smoke. He can do without, or he can wait till later. Right now while it's quiet -- while Junior's napping and they have the place to themselves -- he's going to enjoy the hell out of being home. And so he fluffs up the pillows on their bed and leans back, taking Beth with him as much as he can. If they get a chance to sleep in this bed, it'll be the best night's sleep he's had in months. But if they don't, they can sure take advantage of it now.

Once Beth's nestled next to him, his arm around her just like old times, he presses a soft kiss to the side of her face. And then, because she offered it up so nicely and he's as much of an opportunist as ever, he reaches behind her other ear and comes up with a fresh cigarette for her. "Hey. You weren't kidding about stashing stuff back here."

The first time he ever did that little trick for her, she smiled so big he thought her face was going to split in two. That was a long time ago -- almost three years ago -- but he remembers it as clear as anything. The cigarette plays back and forth over his fingers before he offers it to her.

"I remember the night I met you, Beth. You were all long legs and big green eyes and hell yeah I'll smoke and I'm pretty sure there was something in there about me corrupting you. Maybe not that first night, but it didn't take very long. I went back up to my room over the bar and I couldn't stop thinking about you." He's pretty sure he's never told her this before, but if he has, he'll just have to beg her indulgence. "I wasn't sure what to make of it. Of you. I just knew you were in my thoughts when I went to bed that night, and I was still thinking about you when I woke up the next morning, and I went down to the bar and pretended not to look for you but I kind of couldn't help it. I'm... not such an easy guy to impress and I'm not saying it was love at first sight, but ma'am, you made a hell of an impression on me."

Had he known then what he knows now, he wouldn't have wasted any damn time at all getting her back up to his room. As it is, they moved that way pretty quickly, but there was this incredible temptation, this build-up. This yearning to touch and explore, but it all being just a little too far out of reach.

The past six months have been like that all over again: he doesn't have a single doubt in his heart or his mind about her. She's his world, her and Junior, all of it.

"And you still do."

And I in these lines say:
Like this I want you, love,
love, Like this I love you,
as you dress
and how your hair lifts up
and how your mouth smiles,
light as the water
of the spring upon the pure stones,
Like this I love you, beloved.

[stbethadettes]

One of her hands hovers about an inch or two from her mouth, the cigarette he gave her between her fingers, but the other, matchbook neatly sandwiched by her thumb and forefinger, rests on his chest in proprietary contentment.

She may have slept with the only two adult males they've had on the planet back home, but Yorick was never hers. No matter how nicely they fit together or how great it felt after two years of no sex and and no men and only occasional companionship. There wasn't a part of him that wasn't so fucking delicious she could've resisted it once he kissed her, even though that's something Hero might never be able to believe.

But he was never hers, and while she can't deny she kind of wished he was back then -- she's only human -- it's always been okay.

Especially now.

For all that she hopes Yorick and Beth Junior get to meet one day, there are few things better than this: Spike, fresh from the shower, by her side in their own bed, her sleeping daughter safe in her crib in the next room, and that general good-mood haze that usually follows a shower with Spike making everything that much better.

Yeah. She fucking missed this.

"I made that much of an impression on you?"

She's a little surprised -- it hadn't been long at the time since Julia died in his arms -- but not a whole damn lot. Spike was never what she'd call easy to read, but to get past his seeming nonchalance enough after a few nights that he was making sketches of the layout of the Bebop for her... well, that's kind of telling.

She'd thought it was stunningly sweet of him.

"Well, you're a fine one to talk about impressions. You made a pretty good one yourself that night, bounty hunter."

[not_that_spike]

Deep down inside, he believes that taking the time to talk with her that first night they met was the best thing he ever did without knowing in advance just how smart it was. After all, she's turned into his... everything, her and Junior, and he never could have imagined any of this three years ago. No, he was pretty damn self-sufficient, pretty okay being by himself. He didn't know he was as starved for... what was it? attention? interaction? contact? whatever it was, but he knows she made exactly the impression he remembers her making.

And like he said, she's still making impressions on him. He thinks he knows her pretty damn well, but she still has this unique ability to surprise the hell out of him. For instance, he wouldn't have put money on her deciding to walk through that door in the church. In fact, she's been so bound and determined to get to Paris and to find Yorick, insistent on Junior meeting him, that her yes shocked him like no one's business.

He has absolutely no complaints about being here. It's just that he's spent six months or so getting used to the idea they wouldn't be back again, so... yeah. She keeps him on his toes, and he's always said he likes a woman who can kick his ass. Either literally or figuratively.

"We're a regular mutual admiration society, Slim." She's right here, and he has to take advantage of it while he can; his fingers take in the feel of her skin beneath them the way a teabag soaks up hot water. He loves her and he never, ever wants to be apart from her. In fact, the times they've been separated have been the toughest times of his life. And he remembers the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when he realized Julia was never going to show up to leave Mars with him. He remembers it really well, with this startling clarity and it's not because of his fake eye that holds memories or any of that shit: it's etched into his heart. But even that can't hold a damn candle to the moment he opened that bathroom door in the bar and found himself on Mars with no Beth, no way to find Beth, no one who even remembered Beth. It was like she'd never existed. Like they'd never had this. Like he hadn't spent months rubbing her back and her feet when they were sore from being pregnant; like he'd never told Junior stories deep into the night; like they'd never touched or kissed or even known each other.

That... sucked.

It doesn't suck now. If the past six months have taught him anything other than to take advantage of every last second they have together, it's that they know how to do this thing. They work well together.

They make a damn good couple.

[stbethadettes]

"That's probably putting it mildly."

Catching the side of his chin with two of her fingertips, she gently turns his face toward her for a kiss.

Once she's gotten that, she's satisfied enough to straighten up just a little bit and open that book of matches so she can strike one and light her cigarette.

She can't help feeling like they've come a long way -- and they have, in more ways than one -- and she's proud of them as individuals and proud of them as the unusual family unit that they are.

"You remember the night you told me Joe asked you to be his best man?" She doesn't quite wait for an answer. "And I felt surprised by how sudden it all was?"

It was none of her business, really, and she never actually met Mina but certainly had nothing against her. It just struck her as strange and sudden and she couldn't help it.

"You said something to me about thinking guys like you and Joe were trying grab happiness where you can."

Like it's something so elusive it needs to be held on to firmly once you find it, and when she thought of it in terms like that, it was a hell of a lot easier to understand. It was something she could identify with, but there's always been a part of her that's tried to stubbornly hold back, that's never called the bar in general home, that's never seen the point of Spike offering to go with her to some justice of the peace when she told him she was pregnant.

"I think that's what we can call this. And if we can't leave, I'll won't complain. But if we can, we'll go back and keep doing what we're doing out there."

It won't take forever. There's only so long that it's going to make sense to keep looking for Yorick, and they'll know it when it seems like there's no longer any point to searching.

When that time comes and their little party splits up, she's going to take Spike and Junior somewhere -- if they can't get back here -- that they can all live the most normal life possible.

There's no such thing as the normal she grew up with, whether it's on the other side of the door and here at the bar, and she's okay with that. She's adjusted to a hell of a lot.

But she'll happily take the closest she can get.

[not_that_spike]

There are two things happening that pretty much flood him with this private and personal happiness he'll never share with anyone, not even Beth. Hell, a guy has to have some secrets, doesn't he? This one doesn't fall into the realm of his little promise not to keep anything from Beth. It's just a mood.

The first thing is that kiss she gives him. It isn't that she's never kissed him before, or never kissed him that way, or that this one's more meaningful or somehow different. But it's special, and it's special because they're out in the open and they're not stealing moments, they're not stealing time, they're not stealing affection. It's normal and natural and he loves the hell out of her and he knows he's more vocal about it than Beth, but that little kiss says I love you, bounty hunter almost as loud as the second thing flooding him with happiness.

That second thing is the way he's included in her thinking about the future. Even the immediate future: it wasn't so long ago that her planning was for herself and Beth Junior and not for him. That was understandable, but it hurt a lot, although he wouldn't tell her that. He loves her and he told her a long time ago he wouldn't ever stand in the way of her happiness or of anything she needs to do. He meant it and he still means it, but he sure as hell doesn't want to be apart from her ever again. Not if they can help it. This is... kind of a big thing, even though he won't make a big deal out of it.

It just makes him happy, that's all. And so he nods his agreement, his hands playing over her skin like they haven't stopped doing since they got here. It's like she's brand new, almost, and yeah. Yeah. He could get used to being here easy, but his gut reaction when she talks about not being able to leave surprises him. It's this combination of fuck, we've come so far, I hope we don't have to give up now and stay, if we stay... wouldn't that be sweet? But he's never been one to sit back and settle. Even if the door won't open up for them now, it might some day. Or maybe it'll open but to somewhere else, and he's not afraid of taking advantage of a situation.

"I remember that about Joe." His hand finally leaves her just long enough to retrieve the ashtray; that goes on his legs for her ease of reach. "And it was true. No matter where we end up, I'm always going to feel like the luckiest damn guy in the universe as long as we're together, Beth. I love you. I love Beth Junior. I'm... pretty damn fond of our family whether it's here or in Paris or in New France or on Mars or out by the lake or on Europa or back in Cooksfield." He's said it enough that it could be his mantra, but it bears repeating. "Anywhere with you."

For now, he grabs himself a new cigarette because he can. He's an opportunist, after all.

[stbethadettes]

"How about Eleuthera?"

It's completely out of the question, but it's as interesting to think about as it always was. And last time they joked about it there wasn't a baby around to take into consideration.

"We can grow tobacco and pineapples, and Junior will learn to swim with the dolphins."

It's silly and laughable and somehow still sweet.

Setting her cigarette in the ashtray but not stubbing it out, she turns to Spike and leans into him, wrapping both arms around his neck as if she can hardly believe she's managed to stop touching him since they got here.

What was she thinking? This is what she's been missing and wanting and remembering with this we didn't know how good we had it kind of wistfulness.

"It really would be nice if I let you smoke in peace," -- it's not like she isn't damn glad to have a cigarette herself -- "and started thinking about getting something to eat before our hour's up, but I don't feel very willing to get out of bed with you."

[not_that_spike]

"We've got tobacco and pineapples. Don't see why we'd need anything else." But yeah, he knows what she means and he's maybe even less inclined to get out of bed than she is.

He will, though. He'll do anything for her; it's just the way he is. And it isn't like he gives a damn about smoking in peace: it's all good. If they go down (over?) to the bar, he can smoke there. It's no big deal, especially when her arms wrap around him like she can't get enough, like he's the best sight in the whole damn universe, like they haven't been together for most of the last six months. Hell, he can't keep his hands off her, either: shower or no shower, he'd love it if they could stay here long enough to wake up in each others' arms in the morning. Long enough for Beth Junior to have a comfortable night -- now that she's sleeping through them -- in her own crib. It would be a hell of a thing for all of them, but... not at the expense of their mission out in Paris. Not when they're so close they can smell it, even though the idea of finishing what they went out there to do fills him with a little bit of trepidation.

Whatever: he'll deal with it when and if he has to. But for now, he's got his woman in his arms and he doesn't have to hide himself away, and that... hell, it's worth enjoying. With that in mind, he leans forward and lets his lips drag over hers while she's so close.

He offered before -- at least he thinks he did, although maybe he just thought it -- but he'll do it again. "I can bring food in for us, Slim. We can let Junior sleep longer that way. Bring you anything you want." It's been a long time since he had the opportunity to talk to her this closely without being under that cloak. It's a whole different experience and while the cloak has its definite merits, he kind of likes it better this way. Mostly, he likes it better this way because there's so much opportunity and promise wrapped up in it.

"Eleuthera would be pretty damn perfect." In his mind's eye, he can see her clearly as anything standing naked in that turquoise water, dolphins in the background. Going back there would be fucking incredible and he'd do it in a heartbeat.

[stbethadettes]

Roughing it on Eleuthera like they'd have to in his time or her time would probably lose some of its charm in practice. But the idea of Spike, skin bronzed from the near constant kiss of the sun, wearing only some soft ragged-edged pair of jeans and doing some tobacco farming against a backdrop of island sunset is just...

Well, it brings a very unabashed smile of pure appreciation to her lips.

Plus, the mental image of Junior in a little swimsuit and building her first sandcastle (with lots of help) is really fucking sweet.

But in reality, what they've got right this instant is good. It's really good. Compared to what they just came from, it's almost too good to be true. And it's certainly too good to spend too much time daydreaming rather than soaking up what's right here right now.

Spike's the one who's always said he's an opportunist, but they both know she's one, too.

She kisses his nose first, then his mouth again, then his chin. He's practically asking for it. "Why don't we just eat in here after all?"

Minimal clothing's required in here. And she really would like to let Junior get as much of a nap as possible.

[not_that_spike]

He's missed those days of let's go upstairs and want some? and love you, Beth and he didn't even know how much he's missed them until just now. He gets this little pang at the thought of throwing on a pair of sweats -- clean ones, at that -- and a t-shirt, again clean, and stepping through the portrait and into the bar, ordering dinner for two like he's never been gone. Like they've never been gone, like they've just been holing up here in the House of Arch. No Earth, no invisibility cloak, no lean times, no Israeli army, no Yorick.

No hiding.

In theory, he's missed a few people at the bar and he wouldn't mind running into them: Elaine, Tom, Door, Moiraine. Faye. People like that. But if he doesn't see them... well, shit, they can leave notes this time, because going out again will be intentional.

The words what do you want are right there, right on his lips, but he doesn't ask them quite yet. There has to be a better way to phrase it so it's a little less abrupt, a little more seductive. Yeah, he's good with his hands but he's good with words, too, and he's relaxed as anything right here fresh out of the shower with Beth, but his mind's always busy, always going.

Kissing her lips, then her cheek -- the feel of her skin is so damn electric, just like always -- he lets out a satisfied little sigh. "Just let me know, Slim, if there's anything special you want." He already decided on one of those really big hamburgers but hell, he might splurge and get a whole buffet's worth of food. It's been so long since he could.

And if what Beth says she wants isn't food... well, he's good with that, too.

[stbethadettes]

She could pry herself away and check Joe's watch now, but since she hadn't glanced at it before they got in the shower she has no idea exactly how long it's been since they got back.

"Anything special?"

Tilting her head slightly, she leans the weight of her body against him. There are plenty of answers she could give him, but she thinks she's going to have to go for the plain and serious answer. No matter how much she's smiling at him.

"How fast do you think you can eat?"

[not_that_spike]

"Depends what's for dessert."

That's... probably not the answer she's looking for, but it's the first one that pops out of his mouth and since he's started, he might as well capitalize on it. "I mean, I could get potechi if you're in the mood." Reaching over, he traces the length of her scar with his index finger. It's been a long time since he had the opportunity to do that, and food or not -- meeting up again with Hero or not -- he's not going to pass it up.

"But seriously? I can eat as fast as I have to." He's never been bad at wolfing down his food, but the past six months have turned that into something of an art form for him. He knows one thing he's definitely getting before they leave for Paris again, and that's lots and lots and lots of trail mix and jerky and dried fruit and things like that. Hell, maybe Bar even has those dehydrated food packs, the ones where you just add water and they spring back into form as a whole meal. He has some of those stashed away in the lockbox on the Swordfish, come to think of it, or at least he used to. They probably expired a few years ago.

All this thought of food makes his stomach growl; he directs Beth's hand to the flat of his stomach. He knows he's skinnier than he was six months ago, not like he had any extra to lose in the first place. But it's okay. The alternative was staying here and getting fat alone.

And wouldn't that have been just fucking great.

"What do you want me to bring back for us?"

(He's easy.)

[stbethadettes]

She gives him a look that's probably nearly surprised enough in its delight to make someone think she'd forgotten what it's like to be blatantly flirted with.

(Well, it has been a while since they had the luxury of the time and opportunity for that kind of thing.)

It wasn't the first answer she was expecting -- though maybe it should've been -- but it's the best answer he could've given her, and she touches her forehead to his, feeling like she's grinning like a goddamn fool.

And as her fingers splay over his stomach, she can't possibly resist stealing another kiss. "I don't want you to go anywhere just yet."

The real issue is how much time she can spend with him just like this. Food will be nice and she really is sort of determined that they -- especially Spike -- get something filling to eat before they leave, but she just can't help wanting to stretch this particular moment out as long as she can get away with it.

[not_that_spike]

Well, damn: he doesn't want to go anywhere just yet either. It's the two of them alone together in their own room wearing nothing but towels, with Junior asleep in her crib. They haven't had an opportunity like this one in six months and he's not going to be the practical one here. He's never rushed out of a situation like this his entire life, and he won't start now.

"Tell you what." She's right here, just begging to be made out with, as if they're sixteen-year-olds who finally got the car on a Friday night. "Let's wait till Junior wakes up. Then I'll go get us some food, and if Hero's there waiting, I'll bring her back with me and we can all eat together." That whole hour limitation was kind of made in the heat of the moment, when they were all still astonished they'd found this place and besides, they haven't had good relaxed time with Hero either. They all kind of deserve to be able to take a deep, deep breath and just fucking relax.

"How's that sound?" As if he can resist her: she's always been his biggest weakness. With her hand still playing on his no-longer-rumbling stomach, he steals one kiss and then another and then another... and then he stops counting them. All he knows is how good this all is right here and right now. Fuck Paris, fuck food. Fuck Yorick. Fuck invisibility cloaks and the Israeli army and hiding and searching. Fuck all of it.

He's got Beth.