Every time you make a move

City of Angels

Los Angeles, several months later...

"They've gotten so big..." Freddie mused as he sat up against the headboard of the queen size bed, watching his son in his arms as he held his bottle in his own hands and chugged his milk down; grip was something they'd both developed shortly after he embarked on the band's American leg of their Jazz tour, along with many other things.

"Your mother has been saying he's beginning to look like you did when you were a baby." Monica giggled from her spot at the high chair near the slider door leading out to the balcony, feeding their daughter spoonfuls from a jar of baby food.

"Only he has your hair." He smiled and looked back into the big brown eyes staring up at him.

"They're the perfect mix of the both of us." She whispered, wiping up excess baby food around her daughter's mouth with a napkin.

"Has she finished her breakfast yet? This little one certainly has." He looked over and set his empty feeding bottle down on the bedside table as he felt Johnny crawl out of his arms.

"Just about." Monica removed Roshni's bib, lifting her out of the high chair carrying her back over.

"Let me see her..." he held his arms out, and she gently set Roshni into his arms.

The man smiled, gently gathering a nearby blanket around her as Monica picked Johnny up, "Right... time to get dressed."

"Leave me to that bit, set our boy here." Freddie patted the empty spot next to him.

"You aren't going to put them in those, are you?" She pointed to their teddy bear outfits sitting on the chair.

"Why not?" He gently laid Roshni down and made his way over.

"Well, they're absolutely stinking!" She picked their breakfast plates up off the coffee table.

They were outfits that Freddie's friend Peter Straker had bought for them around the time they were a few months old. The man simply adored them when they both crawled around the place on all fours in the cuddly brown fabric with a little bobtail at the bottom, but they had been repeatedly worn and hadn't been put in the washing machine once.

Freddie gathered them up,  "I only want them to look good."

"They'll smell bad in this California heat. They need washed anyway." She stacked the plates slightly and set them back on the room service trolley.

"But they're cute!" He whined, helping dress them.

"Maybe, but we can find other things that they'll look cute in," she folded her arms and walked over to him. "I'll look for a laundrette or dry cleaner while you're out... their bibs need washed too anyway."

"Have you seen all the gunk that gathers up inside public washing machines?" He lifted his head, pulling the zip up. "It's all a weird cement consisting of bloody skin cells and slimy dust... and people here love their canines so also dog hairs! This is America, do not forget!"

"Your imagination ceases to bore me," she shook her head laughing, stuffing their dirtied bibs into a plastic bag. "Now come on. You're going to have to hand them over sooner or later."

"Fine," he huffed. "Right then, cuddle bugs. Come to daddy."

"Oh, so a minute ago they were teddy bears and now they're cuddle bugs?" She put her hands on her hips as they crawled to their dad.

He unzipped them one by one, "well, that's their new nickname, because what else are they without those suits?" 

"You'll be fine for a day." Her arms stopped Johnny from sliding over the edge of the bed.