peace_inthe_violence

"Yes, and you could have just asked me to move the ladder, or gotten a second ladder." Definitely not actually an argument anymore, but an old, familiar kind of discussion, and as point of fact there was a second ladder now, though one that rarely saw use.

He had already started drawing even as he spoke, a small tangle of roots down across the back of Nicky's hand, the leaves and stalks came next, working up his forearm just as carefully as he'd picked out the ravens across Andy's shoulders, it would be a Hellebore when it was finished, a Christmas Rose, one of the first stories Nicky had told him once they'd finally stopped trying to kill each other and started trying to figure out what had happened to them.

How did his night of melancholic drinking end up like this? Booker had to wonder for a moment. He went from alone to Nicky almost passed out in his lap and Joe hugging him. What was this family he had found himself a part of? And what would he do without them?

Booker patted Joe on the back before he untangled from him. "No one wants to incite Andy's wrath."

He got his arms underneath Nicky's shoulders and hauled him up. He was a lot easier to carry than Joe though Booker had done both in various fights over the years. "I don't know what rules he's talking about. Let's get him upstairs."

Booker was a surprisingly graceful drunk though he did have a lot of practice in that state. He smoothly moved Nicky over to Joe's lap in the perfect position to be carried. "There you go. I'll follow you up. Don't want to take you both down if I slip."

Joe mentioned Booker carrying him and then he was being hauled around and he grunted a little as he went from comfortably sprawled to suddenly semi-upright. His eyes narrowed a little, but he was drunk and sleepy and for once the alcohol hadn't made him mean and bitter. So instead of flailing until he 'fought' himself loose, he simply rolled off the couch, catching himself with one hand and his knees.

The glare would have been impressive if his eyes could stay open.

"I can walk."

See, he could climb to his feet and even stand completely upright.

Edited 2020-09-15 15:36 (UTC)

It was impressive Nicky could stand. That was a lot of alcohol for him. Booker had expected him to fall over right away. Still, he wasn't going to let Nicky try the stairs himself.

He glanced over at Joe and considered him and then considered Nicky. Alright, when force didn't work Booker only had one other skill and that was charm.

"Nicolo." Booker gently cupped his face in his hands and pressed a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Lean a little on Joe and me, won't you? Just for the stairs. It's a little dark."

Booker took his hands and tugged him towards the stairs. He looked at Joe to make sure the other man got behind Nicky. The two of them could seduce Nicky up the stairs. "I want to curl up with you again. Let me pet your hair and listen to your heartbeat in bed?"

Actually, those things sounded really nice.

"You better," she said, to the objectives of phone, being careful, and most importantly coming back to them. He was family, she loved him. It was that simple. Andy didn't want to lose him or be halfway around them world when his immortality ran out.

"You know you can always have us if you need us," Andy murmured. "Wherever you need."

Even here in the Maltese sunlight, six inches away from each other, though closer to zero inches when Andy reached out a hand and brushed her fingertips over his cheekbone, tilting to draw him in close and kiss Booker. It wasn't needy, wasn't drowned in want for him to do anything right now, just...a soft, reassuring kiss that tasted like bourbon, peaches, and the pool.

Booker wouldn't forget the lessons he had learned over the years. There was still a heavy grief in his chest and an ache in his heart but it wasn't like the night she found him drinking. He hadn't gone stupid with it.

He cupped the back of her neck in a hand as they kissed and squeezed gently to convey some reassurance. He started to feel alone when they first came here but this time had closed that distance.

"If I can't handle it I'll make sure to call you for back up." If the grief got to be too much while he was away or his heart hurt too much they would be his first call. He might also drink but that was his usual solution.

The kiss was lovely, comforting as he squeezed at her neck, and she hummed against Booker's mouth gently, letting him take the lead as Andy only did with him. The relationships were subtly different with each member of their family, though Andy held all of them jealously close.

"Good," she murmured, intending to let him do what he needed, even if she'd worry over it all the while he was gone. "So am I getting in, or are you getting out?" she asked, setting aside her drink, nearly empty but for some of the peach bits in the ice.

"Do you want me to get out?" He was content like this but Booker was fairly content just lounging around with her all the time. There was a subtle joy in sitting around with any of them in peace and quiet. "Or do you want to come in here and cool down?"

He wouldn't leave without telling them all what his plan was and making sure there was some plan for if he didn't communicate with them or come back. The chances of that were slim, very slim.

"I'm here for you, you know that." He kissed the corner of her mouth. "Like always, boss."

"What are you doing?" Booker had resettled but when he first closed his eyes he was pretty sure Andy had a shirt on. Now Joe was drawing on Nicky's hand? What had he missed by almost immediately dropping off to sleep?

Not that he cared too much when Nicky was still petting him. Joe, ever the talented artist, was able to draw on the skin of Nicky's freehand while his husband tended to a temperamental, sleepy Frenchman.

He inched a little closer to Nicky to get a better view and also snuggle some more. Since coming here he was a lot more interested in affection than before.

Edited 2020-09-16 01:27 (UTC)

Andy chuckled at Nile's vehemence regarding zucchini, and caught the tomato with gentle hands when Nicky passed it to her, shaking her head and returning the sentiment in Italian as she turned back towards the house. Let the two of them bond, or at least tackle the garden, now that no one was being attacked or hurt.

She'd still talk to Nicky about jumping off the roof again and giving her a heart attack.

"Le lascerai perdere la tua cucina? Peccato, Nicolò," she said over her shoulder. "Don't let Booker hear you talk about growing grapes again."

Andy hummed thoughtfully, and shook her head at the idea of him getting out. "Swim back a bit, I'll get in," she said, levering herself up to where she could sit up and slide into the water.

"I know," she sighed gently, surfacing again in the water and kicking to keep her head above water. "You keep me steady, Book. More than anyone else."

He finished his drink in two big swallows before he pushed away from the pool edge so that she could slide into the water. Booker understood why people worshiped her as a goddess as she got in. She was beautiful.

"You did the same for me after Jean-Pierre." That was when Booker actually joined them instead of trying to live his life like nothing had changed. He had come to them a wreck of guilt and grief and they helped rebuild him.

He swam over to her and caught her around the waist. He could keep them both up in the water easily. "I enjoy being your right hand. Your friend. Lover. Whatever you need."

"Your mother is a very wise woman, cara." He used the little bit of affection without thinking about it, a sure sign of how much he already considered her to be family. Even if she didn't consider herself as family, yet.

Andy turned to head back to the house and Nicky's lips twitched up in a fond smile. "Non le sto insegnando a fare la pizza! Booker can stay out of my grapes, the French heathen...

"Sorry, sometimes the temptation to tease is a bit too much to ignore on days as fine as this." The last was directed at Nile, though it wobbled a little as he started to pick his way through the weeds so he could survey the damage to his grapes. "If you don't like grapes, we can pull them out, wild or not. If you like to garden, this can be your garden now."

"Tattoos," Andy said lightly, relaxed and content around the others as she draped herself over the arm of the couch where there was room and where the pigment wouldn't be smudged off her skin.

"Won't last forever, but they'll last longer than trying to get a real one." The wounds just closed up--as Booker would have remembered, when she'd made him re-pierce one of her ears with a potato and a safety pin after the ring in it had been torn out, and the whole thing had healed over again. "Think about what you want him to draw on you, Book."

"You bought me a second ladder, hayati, why ever would I need to get myself a third?" But he was grinning, wide and open and so close to laughter. He flexed a clean finger just enough to barely stroke his husband's hand. A world of emotion in barely a centimetre of intentional contact.

Booker wiggled in closer and Nicky's fingers drifted from threading through his hair to tugging at it lightly. He loved it when Booker was this affectionate with them. It hadn't happened in far too long, and even before it had usually only been an option after thoroughly exhausting the man between their bodies. To have him so languid and cuddly now was almost enough to make him not whine when Andy moved out from between his knees.

Almost.

"He hit you hard," Andy murmured, looping her arms around his shoulders and trusting her weight to him, gentle as it was in the water. "You're everything," she whispered, unafraid of pressing up against him and nuzzling into his neck.

He knew what it felt like, more intimately than the others, to lose everything, to feel ungrounded after everything was gone. "All of it."

"He was the same age I was when I died." Booker pressed his face against her hair as he leaned back using just a little strength to keep them afloat. After all these years he still wished he could save him. All that on top already watching his wife age and die, then his other sons...

They both understood grief on a very deep, ugly level. Booker trusted she wouldn't flinch from his darkness.

"Well, you know me, I live to serve." He drew back and smiled at her. He didn't need to bring them down with talk of his family again.

That was... well it was a much better tactic than Joe had been planning, which was essentially netting him in the blanket quickly enough that he couldn't actually take a swipe at anyone, and from behind, so there'd be no biting.

He gave Booker the slightest nod as their eyes met over Nicky's shoulder, "I think that sounds like a very generous offer." He murmured even as he eased a little closer, hand settling lightly against Nicky's side, there was no possessiveness to it, just making sure Nicky knew where they both were. From there it was easy to steer him towards the stairs, just keeping two steps behind on the way up so as to stay close enough to keep a hand on his side at all times, but not crowd him while also giving himself enough space to catch if anyone had a misstep.

Joe shifted just slightly as Andy returned, mostly to give her space to tuck her feet between the cushion and his thigh, he didn't know if her feet still got cold like they had when they were still early in the process of getting to know each other, but he hadn't ever minded helping warm them, human furnace that he was.

"Considering that you don't use the second one, caro mia," The only time he used that particular endearment was when they were already teasing because it generally just made Nicky laugh, "A third would probably just be used for shelving." His smile was entirely fond and his expression went as close to actually being cartoon heart-eyed as possible at that touch, but he nodded at Andy's explanation, "You've got a good fifteen minutes to decide on something, probably twenty." He knew what he was doing, but it was careful work so as not to lay the lines down too heavily.

"The hell you do," Andy chuckled, only momentarily startled when he leaned them back, leaving them floating with her half laid on top of him.

"This is nice," she said idly, carefully moving her head to rest it on his chest. "You make a good pool float." Better than a unicorn, anyway.

Booker did think sometimes he lived to serve. He found most of the jobs and did a lot of the planning. He made sure they had money and supplies. They could all operate alone but together he tried his best to make sure everyone had what they needed.

"Thanks boss. It's good to know I've got a backup if this mercenary thing stops being profitable." It didn't take much extra effort to stay up if he kept his arms out. The only real downside was he couldn't quite touch her.

He did glance down at her. "You are ruining my tan though."

His eyes narrowed in suspicion when Booker used his full name like that, but the suspicion was quickly forgotten in favor of nuzzling into that hand and chasing after Booker's lips. He'd missed being so open with the Frenchmen, free to touch him as he pleased. When Booker had put the brakes on sleeping with them, Nicky had started giving him more space everywhere else, too. For a long time, he hadn't even let himself hug the man if he hadn't seen him in a while. So to have Booker willingly in his space again?

He reached out with one hand, snagging his fingers in Booker's shirt to keep him close. The other went down to the hand on his side, keeping contact with both men. He was drunk, but he was surprisingly steady.

Until about halfway up the stairs. The world took a dive sideways for a moment and Nicky paused with one foot in the air and made a small sound of distress as he wobbled.

"MmHM." Was the only response to that second part, because she gave a shrug and: "You're supposed to, or play music for them, people say it helps them grow better, because of the sound waves or harmonics or something." She shook her head, snorting softly, "I used to think it was a whole bunch of 'crystals speak to me' bull, but..."

A shrug as she swapped hands with the mister, stretching the one she'd been using, "Turns out a lot of stuff I thought was bull isn't, actually. So I figured it couldn't hurt. And I don't know about the plants, but there's either a mockingbird or a Whistling Woman just past the tree line that definitely didn't like me whistling yesterday. Pretty sure it was the bird though, don't see many whistlers outside of Navajo territory. Or so one of my squadmates said after she popped another one upside the head for whistling after sundown."

She squinted, both at what she was fairly sure was an endearment, and definitely one that made her bristle automatically, but also at the Italian. She didn't know a lick of it, she'd taken Spanish in high school and barely remembered any of that.

"The only part of that I understood was 'pizza' and I know enough to know that I don't want to know." She shook her head at the rest, though she followed all the same, better to keep him where she could see him and keep him talking, "I don't know about 'like', but it gives me something to do, and something I know how to do, figure it'll make being stuck here a little tolerable."

It did sound like crystal bullshit to Booker but she spoke confidently enough about it that he might consider looking into it the next time he was bored late at night. Anyone who used the term harmonics had an idea of what they were talking about.

"You don't get many people this far out here," Booker pointed out. "Our nearest neighbor is a few miles away. You're hearing birds."

They lived out here for the privacy of it. They didn't need neighbors wondering why they didn't age or why they carried around so many weapons. Or the occasional screams from nightmares.

"Andy give you the, uh, can't go back talk yet?" he asked as he considered her tending to the garden. She was smart and capable. If they won her trust she'd be a good fit.

Malta

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