milliways_bar | (no subject)

It's almost like volleyball, and that's a game he knows real well: he bats the floating toy over toward Millie, who has the hand-eye coordination to use her wolf-eared doll to hit back with. "Here you go, young lady, and don't beat up your floating doll all at once or it's going to be a real short night, because I didn't bring any other toys except a pack of smokes and this jacket." He tugs at the lapel just a little, knowing it's going to get completely trashed.

"Want to sit, Slim?" He nods to the chair next to his. "I have the rat on order to keep refilling the iced coffee... in fact..." He nods to the little hard-working rodent as a fresh iced coffee appears. "Bet chocolate would go really well with this. What do you say, ma'am? That means you, Miss Millie: Chocolate?" He slides the glass out of her reach.

Beth's eyes dart from Spike to Millie, and sitting in the chair Spike nodded to, she grins a little.

She's not wearing a belt or anything, so she hooks Wade's tether to the back of her chair and plays with it a second to be sure it's secure.

Feeling his floating doll brush against the top of her head, she grins more. "Is it snack time? What've we got for Wade?"

She thinks she remembers Snow saying something about Wade eating air and she's curious as hell.

Spike pulls the bag closer, turning to Millie. "No peeking, you." He pretends to shield the bag's contents from her as he rifles through it.

Diapers. Nope, don't need those yet.
Teething ring. Nope. She's not even playing with my collar.
Book. Too early.
Bottle of something: it's probably the nutrient-enriched air Snow talked about.

He hands that to Beth for Wade, then digs a little deeper.

Wipes. No comment.

"Ah, here we go. Chocolate snacks. You don't want these, do you, Millie?" With a grin, he nods to Beth.

Think I'm getting the hang of this. At least so far.

*Wade moves to the can and quickly begins eating. He's reached the point he's pretty much able to feed himself*

*Millie egarly moves to the chocolate treats*

Yah! Choc'la!

Her mouth falling open just a little, Beth watches Wade as he kind of hovers there right above the table, feeding himself.

She kind of squints for a moment, trying to make something out, trying to get a glimpse of what he's eating. But it's air.

She idly thinks that must be pretty damn great for Snow. There'll never be much of a mess to be cleaned whenever Wade finishes eating.

Spike opens up the little bag of chocolatey treats and almost hands the whole thing to Millie before he thinks the better of it and just takes out one treat instead.

He seems to remember from somewhere along the line that it's probably a bad idea to give a one-year-old unlimited access to chocolate.

As he presses the chocolate treat into Millie's hand, he grins just a little. "Miss, do you swear to chew this really well before you swallow? Because the First Aid card I carry hasn't even been invented yet in Beth's time, and I'd hate to get in trouble for having to use it."

It's just idle chatter, but it's fun. And kind of soothing, too.

*Millie accepts the treat with a grin in return. She has no problem with this, she knows how to savour chocolate*

Yah!

The twins are really well-behaved. Beth has certainly met rowdier kids, and she bets Millie and Wade wouldn't be any trouble on a plane.

She reaches over to barely touch her fingers to the top of Wade's head, and his hair is so soft.

Softer than a normal one-year-old's hair, like there's less... substance to it.

And seems perfectly happy to feed himself, floating near her like some kind of baby-shaped balloon.

"How's that air, sweetheart?"

Maybe she is still staring a little, but the fact that she's not absolutely speechless is probably a sign that she's really getting used to this place.

*Wade finishes the bottle and smiles at Beth, drifting closer to her*

Good!

Again, Spike watches Beth.

She can do anything. He nods to Wade. "You ever held him?"

He hasn't. Until tonight he never even considered it: that it could be done. Spike resettles Millie on his lap, spreading out some of the chocolate biscuits on the table in front of them in a pattern. It forms a kind of arc; he can't help but take one of them and pretend it's a spaceship taking off. He zooms this one into the air and holds it out for Millie.

"What do you think, young pilot in training? The ship next, or the fuel?" He points to the rest of the chocolates.

Beth. Don't ever tell anyone back out there that I've done this. Kill my tough guy reputation for sure.

"Yeah, once or twice."

She flashes Spike a smile, then turns toward Wade again.

"C'mere, want to show him how it's done?" Wade has drifted right there by her, so she turns and sweeps him into her arms, cuddling him in her lap for a moment.

The windbaby's soft all over, really, and not just baby-skin soft. It's kind of a weird sensation, and she imagines it must've been been a hell of a thing for Snow to get used to. She loosens her hold on him, though, not wanting to keep him from floating around as much as he likes. She bets Snow won't mind if Wade's all tired out by the time she gets back.

And when Spike makes one of those chocolate treats fly toward Millie, Beth manages not to laugh.

He's reckless and tough and brave and usually goddamn casual, but he's better with kids than he makes people think.

As Millie takes the chocolate jet from him (and it seems like she's pretty damn gleeful about it, too), he reaches into the bag one more time and comes out with a book. "Hey, check this out."

He's never seen it before, but he likes the title. He opens it to the first page where a kid in a wolf suit (hey, maybe Millie will like this, she turns into a wolf) is nailing something up in his room; he's got a huge scowl on his face. Spike starts to read, just loud enough so Millie and Wade and Beth can hear him:

"The night Max wore his wolf suit and made mischief of one kind..."

He turns the page; Max is chasing a dog now (hey! smart kid)

"...and another..."

Millie giggles.

"...his mother called him 'WILD THING!' and Max said 'I'LL EAT YOU UP' so he was sent to bed without eating anything."

He can feel Millie relaxing against him; Spike glances up at Beth, Wade in her arms but about to start floating again, and he winks at her.

Even though Max looks pretty damn pissed off back on the printed page, Spike likes the story so far.

"Slim. You know this story?"

Beth grins and leans back in her seat as Wade leaves her lap, and sending his doll floating back to him, she crosses her arms over her chest and listens to Spike almost as attentively as the kids.

She recognized the cover when he took it out of the bag.

"I've read that one before."

A long, long time ago.

Kind of funny what shows up here at the end of the universe.

She looks toward Millie in Spike's lap and gives her a wink. "Don't let him stop there. The rest of the story's good."

He gives Beth one of those glances, the kind that tells her I love you so damn much without having to say anything. He brushes the treats out of the way and moves the book right in front of Millie so she can see the pictures.

And he reads.

That very night in Max's room a forest grew
and grew--
and grew until his ceiling hung with vines and the walls became the world all around
and an ocean tumbled by with a private boat for Max and he sailed off through night and day
and in and out of weeks and almost over a year to where the wild things are.

He can feel Millie slowing down; she shifts in his arms so that her head leans against one of his arms.

He mouths the words is she asleep? to Beth.

Hovering low, Wade places his hand on Beth's shoulder, but his eyes are all for the book in front of Spike and Millie. He doesn't seem particularly bothered that he's looking at it upside down.

Beth tilts her head and eyes Millie. Her head's kind of rolled to one side, resting against Spike's arm.

Yeah, it looks like her eyes are closed.

She nods at Spike. Think so.

He stops reading long enough to reach one more time into that bottomless pit of a bag that Snow brought, pulling out a pint-sized blanket. Spike readjusts Millie in his arms so she's lying down instead of sideways and tucks the blanket around her.

Am I doing this right? I sure as hell hope so.

He has no instinct for it at all. At least he doesn't think so.

Once Millie's settled, he keeps reading to Wade.

And to Beth.

And when he came to the place where the wild things are they roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws till Max said "BE STILL!" and tamed them with the magic trick of staring into all their yellow eyes without blinking once and they were frightened and called him the most wild thing of all and made him king of all wild things.
"And now," cried Max, "let the wild rumpus start."

Pausing, he looks up at Wade: his eyes are looking a little bit heavy. But he's a trooper, and for a minute Spike indulges in a memory from long ago of his own mom reading to him, there in his little bed in his little room in their little condo in Mars-L.A. and he must have been just about five, wearing pajamas with planets and stars on them, his hair black and not yet fuzzy, knees tucked to his chest as he listened.

It's almost kind of a precious memory but he shrugs it off (don't need it) and goes back to reading. There are a couple of pages with no words at all, so he turns the book upside down so Wade can see.

"Now stop!" Max said and sent the wild things off to bed without their supper. And Max the king of all wild things was lonely and wanted to be where someone loved him best of all. Then all around from far away across the world he smelled good things to eat so he gave up being king of where the wild things are.

In his arms, Millie stirs silently and contentedly.

"Beth. Am I doing okay? I have no fu... no idea."

Beth leans forward again, touching his hand, and she doesn't quite whisper but her voice is low. "You're fine."

He's not a natural, no, but he's smart. And he's doing just fine right now.

She's kind of proud of him.

She coaxes Wade back into her lap and holds him, letting him reach for the book and pat it lightly. She's guessing he approves. His movements are a little sluggish, though, and his eyes blink slowly.

Her hand smoothes his hair. He'll probably be sleeping like his sister soon enough.

"What happened next?"

She smiles to herself. She kind of remembers how it goes.

There's another blanket in the bag; Spike reaches for it and hands it across the table to Beth before he finishes the story. He sneaks a look at her hand smoothing Wade's hair and there's something so primal and satisfying about that movement. Later, when babysitting's done and it's just the two of them, he'll try to remember to do that same thing for her as she's falling asleep.

Or ask her to do it for him.

He reads:

But the wild things cried, "Oh please don't go--we'll eat you up--we love you so!" And Max said, "No!"
The wild things roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws but Max stepped into his private boat and waved good-bye and sailed back over a year and in and out of weeks and through a day and into the night of his very own room where he found his supper waiting for him

Wade's eyes are closed, so he reads the last page in a whisper:

and it was still hot.

There's a long moment of silence, and it seems to Spike that even the noises from the surrounding bar have settled out of respect for the sleeping twins. Of course, that could just be wishful thinking. He checks Millie; she looks peaceful as anything.

Carefully, he reaches for the iced coffee: this babysitting thing isn't as bad as he thought it was going to be.

He whispers to Beth.

"Hey. I like that story."

Somewhere deep inside, he's still a little kid who doesn't mind bedtime stories.

But he'll never, ever admit it. Not even to himself.

Grinning, she nods and doesn't say anything. Like she told Millie, the rest of the story is good.

Too bad Millie missed out on most of it.

But she sure is cute when she sleeps.

She looks down at Wade, and his eyes are definitely closed, his breath deep and even. She's got him wrapped in the blanket, and the hand that had started to curl around two of her fingers before Spike handed it to her now curls around a corner of the blanket instead.

And now she whispers.

"Nice job, bounty hunter."

Spike doesn't say a word: he just grins right back at Beth.

He guesses he's lucky, because Millie and Wade were so keyed up from their birthday party yesterday that they didn't have a lot of energy to spare tonight.

Or else he's just really, really boring.

Or a hell of a lot better watching kids than he knew.

But he's an opportunist and he's been told time and again he's a selfish bastard and so, selfishly, he acknowledges to himself that no matter how well this went he's not a kid person: he'd rather just be with Beth.

And not with anybody else: he thinks of the hot tub on Venus and their shower here, and the lake outside, and the way she feels when it's just the two of them and he can hold her. Not the way he's holding Millie, not the way she's holding Wade. Time and place for everything. But yeah, he likes being alone with her the best.

He's never been that sociable. Yeah, he can talk to anyone about anything any time, but really, he just wants to be left alone.

With Beth.

He looks over at Wade, sleeping so soundly, and then back at Millie, sleeping so soundly, and then over at Beth, who's watching the kid in her arms. And wonders if he can risk moving for a cigarette now without waking up Millie, and he bets he can.

He's good at sleight of hand.

And so he does, and he taps out two and offers one to Beth and then, carefully, lights his own and slides the lighter across the table for her.

When he speaks, finally, his own voice is low and quiet. "Didn't even have to sing to them. That's a damn good thing."

Love you, Beth.

She laughs soundlessly. He wouldn't have done any singing for the twins, she knows.

She's very careful as she lights her cigarette, making a point of blowing smoke up and away from the sleeping windbaby she's holding.

Just one cigarette.

"Went well, huh?"

Really, Beth thinks Spike should feel pretty good about how well his adventure in babysitting went. It's not over yet, but both kids are asleep and he didn't have to tell them not to do anything, change any diapers, or clean up any messes.

"So far." He shrugs, but just barely so as not to disturb Millie, who tucks a corner of her blanket in her mouth and sucks on it.

He guesses that's not going to hurt anything.

"Snow said she'd be back before their bedtime. But hell, if they want to sleep now, I have no problem with that. Makes things easier, unless you want to move."

Tucking his cigarette between his lips, Spike moves the uneaten chocolate treats back into their little bag and zips it shut again, all with one hand.

Just like magic.

Really, he has no fucking idea how Snow does everything she does with two kids. Must be something people get used to.

"Thanks for helping."

Beth grins.

"It's more fun to help you than to stand across the room and just watch."

And she knows the art of changing diapers isn't something the Dragons would've taught him. Frankly, she was surprised Snow had asked Spike to do this, and she wouldn't have wanted to make him do it alone.

Besides, it's not like she'll ever be able to do this kind of thing anywhere but here.

She idly wonders what Spike's friends would think if they could see him now. And what Julia would think. Wouldn't this be some kind of shock to the system?

"They're probably still tired from all of yesterday's excitement."

She doesn't have a problem with that either.

"Yeah."

In her sleep, Millie yawns, then nestles, turning in toward him.

Spike just stares down at her. Kids don't usually... well, wait, what's he saying. He has this kind of unspoken law about kids and pets: the more he wants to stay distant from them, the more they attach to him. He thinks of Ein picking him over Asimov, and of Ed and the way she once grabbed onto his leg and wouldn't let go.

He guesses that's because it was one of the many times he almost died.

Then he looks back across the table at Beth, blows a few quick smoke rings, and smiles at her.

Look, we're a scene of domestic bliss. Yeah, right.

"Want to do anything later? After Snow comes back to collect Sleeping Beauty and her brother there, that is." Millie murmurs quietly, blowing a little bubble against his jacket.

He's almost afraid to move.