Take a Shot

Babies

I looked back at my partner in crime with a big grin. Her face was a mask of annoyance, as usual, arms crossed, one finger tapping idly on her new little metal device thing. She blinked slowly, her solid gaze only a step down from a glare. It was her resting face. It had scared me at first, but now it had become almost a welcome sight. She was rough, but she was at least honest. More than I could say for most everyone else in the castle.

"Lea is running a little behind, but Joy should be here. We can go in wherever you're ready."

"I don't know, Matt," she mumbled. I put my hands on my hips with a sigh.

"C'mon, don't be a baby. She's literally a year and a half old. You'll be fine. And me and Joy and her storm dog are here, so she'll be fine, too." I saw a brief second of relief on her face. Aha! She was scared to hurt the princess. That made sense; she did not like kids. I considered exactly how different we were as I continued, "You're quick, but the dog is faster. And Roma is a really good baby. She's only spit up on me a few times, even while I was bouncing her around," I laughed.

Yup, that had been a mistake. I'd never seen such a disgusted expression. Emerald was actually, physically, now sneaking away slowly, lip curled up, nostrils flared, eyes narrowed, the whole shebang. I sighed deeply, reaching out and grabbing her arm.

"C'mon, menace." Her arm was so warm and so strong. She was always so warm. I shook it off, turning the knob on the door and swinging it in. Emerald dug her heels in as I pulled. I frowned, planting my feet and pulling harder.

"Don't wanna," she grunted, setting her weight backwards against my pull.

"Quit being so stubborn!" I hissed, looking back to glare at her. Her eyes narrowed rebelliously and she gave a tug of her own backwards, into the hallway. If I hadn't already planted my feet, she would've sent me tumbling her way. Damn woman. "I get it, you're strong and you don't wanna! Now, let's go!"

We glared at each other for a minute, her weighing out my resolve. Unfortunately for her, this wasn't my deal. I was just acting on my orders, and I got lucky enough to be able to fight with her about it. She was just so bullheaded all the time. She hated change and she hated being wrong and she hated attachments. But I wasn't giving up, so she would just have to suck it up.

She looked over my face once before sighing and allowing herself to be pulled to the room. I allowed myself a little victory smirk before turning around and pulling her to the doorway. I released her arm and turned my attention into the dark, quiet nursery. Roma's toys were all nicely put away, a sure sign Joy had been here. I cast an eye towards the crib in the corner to the left of the door, and there he was. All 210 centimeters of the green-haired king was crouched down into a tiny, wooden chair, one of his legs bent at a weird angle so to be resting on the foot of Roma's crib and rocking it gently. The sounds of a lullaby in a language foreign to me warmed the room.

I cleared my throat awkwardly. Joy looked up and, despite the dark circles under his eyes, he looked happy.

"Ah, hello, Matt. Good morning," he greeted. I bowed. It was well into midday, but it wasn't worth correcting him; he was our current King, after all. I took a few steps further into the room before sidestepping to the right. Joy's eyes left me to lock on his former bodyguard. He visibly relaxed at just the sight of her. "Hi, Emerald."

Something in my gut twisted a little. I ignored it. Probably some rotten fruit from lunch.

"Hello, my lord," she greeted back stiffly. He chuckled, standing up from the very small, prior school sized chair in Roma's nursery. He stretched his arms up above his head, getting on his tiptoes with a grunt as he stretched out, no doubt sore from being so cooped up in that chair, bent over to look into his daughter's crib. The chair was too small even for me, so when I read her stories or played games, we were usually both on the floor. The room was set up for a toddler, so that made sense. Still, I made a mental note to ask for a beanbag chair or something.