Baby Gav (Mavin Fanfic)

Part Three

multiple uses of strong language. that's it. pretty sedate chapter ngl.

"GAVIN!"

"What, what?" Michael's holding up two packs of beer.

"Which one?" Yeah, I'm the best man to choose. Gavin Free, the beer connoisseur.

"I dunno Michael!" I really don't. "They all taste the same to me," They do. "Just get whichever one you like." He holds up the pack in his left hand and leans in.

"This one has a much richer aroma," he whispers. "A truly high quality bev." We walk to the checkout and the woman looks suspiciously at me as she scans the bevs.

"How old is he?" Wow, really? Back home I'm pretty much an OAP.

"He's plenty old enough," Michael chuckles, pulling out the money from his wallet. "And, if in doubt, they're not for him." Bloody hell, if looks could kill that woman would be sent down for life.

Michael picks up the booze and smiles broadly at the cashier as he walks away. I peer at her name badge before smiling just as Michael did, waving frantically and yelling "Bye, Rosalyn!" When I get out to the car, Michael's crying with laughter.

"'Bye, Rosalyn!' My god, Gavin, you're a fucking idiot!" Yeah, I know, Michael. But it made you laugh, huh?

We're driving back to Geoff's and singing along to a mixtape Lindsay made especially for Michael's car journeys. Does anyone really say mixtape any more? Shouldn't it be, like, mixdisc? Or mixlist? 'cause playlist doesn't really cut it. You have to specify it's a mix.

I always try to harmonise with Michael when we sing in the car, but Livin' On A Prayer isn't exactly a choirboy song. Like always, I've ended up squealing like a little pig and Michael's laughing at me. Like he always does. Luckily, we're pulling into Geoff's driveway at this point, so there isn't much time for Michael to insult me again.

"Goddammit, Gavin. Can't you just sing like a normal fuckin' person?" Michael pushes open the door and Millie immediately runs to me.

"Uncle Gavin!" she squeaks. Millie loves me so much, and I really admire the way that Geoff and Griffon let her do what she wants within limits. Millie's a totally boyish little girl, but she's happy, and that makes me happy.

"Hey, kiddo! How you doin'?" I like ruffling Millie's hair, and she likes it too.

"I'm okay, but I have to go to bed soon." Geoff clears his throat in the other room.

"Very very soon!" he shouts. Michael walks straight to the fridge and deposits our bevs and Millie takes me by the hand and leads me into the living room. I don't think I've ever seen Geoff look so smart. He's tying a green tie and he's wearing a black suit. Griffon's wearing a dress, which just about says it all.

"Mommy and daddy are going to a smart place tonight so you have to look after me, Uncle Gavin."

"Yes we are," says Griffon, buckling up her strappy black sandals. "And daddy's going to take you upstairs now and get you some pyjamas, okay?" Millie nods and follows Geoff up to her bedroom, who is still struggling to tie his tie.

"Where are you going?" asks Michael, popping open a beer as he walks into the room.

"Oh, nowhere special. Our friends have a thing that I kinda have to go to so y'know..." Griffon hands Michael the TV remote and tucks her nose ring away. "Come on, Geoffrey! We're gonna be late!" Just as she says that, Geoff comes running down the stairs with Millie under his arm, his tie still flapping around Millie's face and her favourite Spiderman pyjamas. Geoff holds her in front of him like a baby so she can kiss her mum goodbye, plants a sloppy kiss on her cheek and donks her on the floor.

"Bedtime, miss." Millie runs up the stairs and Griffon whips Geoff's tie away from his collar. I guess he's not wearing the tie then. "Okay, you guys know the drill. Try not to burn the house down or kill the kid. Have a nice night, and we'll see you guys later." Michael nods into his beer and I make a vague noise of acceptance on my way to the fridge. Thanks for grabbing one for me too while you were over here, Michael. "Night kiddo!" Geoff shouts up the stairs to Millie.

"Goodnight!" she calls back from her room. Geoff and Griffon shut the door behind them and Michael flops down on the sofa. It's 8 o'clock, so that's only like four hours. We'll be out on the razz in no time.