milliways_bar | (no subject)

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.

One arm still cushioning Wade, who's really pretty light in her arms, she taps her cigarette against the ashtray on the table.

She barely notices the smile Spike gives her as her eyes follow the smoke rings.

And she grins again. "Like get food delivered and watch a movie? Or go out for some target practice?"

Now that'd be a hell of a way wind down the night.

"Or go for a swim?"

Damn, she makes him smile. "Yeah, like that."

Personally, he thinks her first idea is the best: being lazy, hanging out with her, dipping strawberries into chocolate while something goes by on that old TV set of his... sounds like a little bit of heaven.

Besides, he remembers seeing some sign or other by the lake when he was out not quite flying like the wind the other day and he's amused at that phrasing, given the wind-baby in Beth's arms. Something about a shark. And he remembers hearing that big splash when they were out there the other night, too. And he thinks that a shark there would probably pretty much kill any fun they might have.

"Got a movie in mind?" He'll go with whatever she wants. Any time, any place.

Not exactly.

She tilts her head, looking up toward the ceiling, and thinks for a moment.

What might Spike enjoy.

The only movies they've watched together have been older movies. Classics. And they were good, absolutely, especially the first one. But tonight should be something different, she thinks.

"Ever heard of Pulp Fiction?"

You will know I am the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you!

That's not real scripture, it's a line from fucking Pulp Fict--

Yeah, that would be interesting to watch together.

He shakes his head, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray. He's watched Beth this whole time, just because he can, because she's right here with him, helping him fulfill this obligation to Snow.

"No, but if you like it I bet I will."

Spike's really not up on the movie catalog from Beth's time, but he's more than willing to watch whatever she wants. "Going to tell me what it's about, or do I get to wait and see?"

He readjusts Millie in his arms, just because she's been in that one position a long time, and he understands now how sleeping babies equal dead weight. He never bothered to think about that a hell of a lot before. She's sleeping pretty soundly. He bets he could pick her up and settle her on his shoulder and she wouldn't even blink.

But he's not going to risk it. Not at all.

"And order in food with it. What sounds good?"

No more caffeine, for starters.

He thinks that Snow might be showing up to collect her twins any time now. Might as well take advantage of the quiet to figure out what they want to do.

She almost doesn't notice Wade's fingers wrapping around one of hers. His touch is feather-light, and his grip feels so easy to slip out of.

She doesn't need to move that hand just yet, though.

"It's... Well, you should just wait and see."

Food in general sounds great. She expects to be pretty damn hungry by the time they're ready to go upstairs. But she grins. "Burgers and fries and milkshakes."

And the requisite chocolate strawberries for desert. Can't forget those.

"Perfect."

He lets out a small contented sigh, both of satisfaction and anticipation. This really was easier than he thought, in one of those hey, I can do that, no problem kind of ways.

He's glad.

As Millie stirs, he just kind of rocks her back and forth, back and forth. It's a foreign motion to him: he's rocked Beth in his arms plenty of times, but never a baby. Most people don't trust their babies to hit-men and bounty hunters, and he's never been interested anyhow.

Spike leans back in his chair, puts his feet up on the table's legs, and feels his shoulders relax and settle for the first time since Snow left.

Out of all the things I never thought I'd be doing, this has to be at the top of the list.

But he smiles at the thought and looks down at Millie. Really, she's all right. And best of all: after Snow collects them, he'll have had his fill of kids for the next decade or so.

*Snow walks up to the table, a nervous glance behind her to ensure Goldy wasn't watching, then her face softens slightly as she realizes the children are here, they're still safe*

Hey. Hope they weren't too much trouble for you.

"Hey. They were perfect." He speaks softly. "We played for a bit, they each had a snack, we read this book, and here they are. I'm not sure who had more fun."

Spike turns his gaze from sleeping Millie back to Snow. "No trouble at all. Need help getting them back or anything?"

Glad they had a peaceful evening, then.

*a pause, then she continues, still quiet but clear*

I can carry it on my own, you get a knack for balancing all of it after a while, but. Goldilocks is here. I wouldn't mind knowing there's someone to watch my back, at least until I get them back to the House of Arch.

"Hell, yeah. Here." He wraps the blanket around Millie and then, disturbing her as little as possible, stands and hands her back to her mom. He can't help but grin when he sees Millie automatically smile at Snow's touch; it's good to know that some people get to grow up with a good set of parents who love them.

He nods to Beth who's got Wade, and packs up the supplies back in that big bag, handing that to Snow also.

And then he takes out his gun and loads it and double-checks it before looking around the room for someone who could possibly be Goldilocks.

"I'll walk you back. No problem. Show us which one she is, just so we know."

Beth's eyebrows go up at the mention of Goldilocks and Spike's movement to load his gun, but she turns and loosens Wade's tether from the back of her chair. Standing, she hands both tether and baby over to Snow.

"They were great."

She doesn't really know why Goldilocks would have Snow a little on edge (Isn't Goldilocks just a kid?), but hell, Snow would know better than she does. Snow's been around a long time and she's not exactly the fairy tale Beth would've expected.

The same must be true for Goldilocks.

At least the kids still look like they're sleeping pretty peacefully.

*Snow tucks Millie close to her and shoulders the bag, then reattaches Wade's tether to her belt and pulls him close to her, managing all thre through some act of Milliways physics*

Thank you for helping out; it was comforting to know they were safe.

*a quick glance around and Snow points to a golden-haired figure heading for the stairs to the guest rooms*

That's her. She didn't seem to be armed when we spoke, so it went better than I'd have expected.

He doesn't put the gun away like he does the cigarettes and lighter, because split seconds can make a hell of a big difference.

Reaching for Beth's hand with his left hand, he nods. He has no idea where the House of Arch is.

"Lead the way. We're right here with you and the kids."