(Untitled)

[i_love_kettch]

It's summer, or at least it ought to be. Only, you see, Coruscant doesn't really get summer. Coruscant doesn't get much of anything when it comes to weather, and sometimes that's okay (because who really wants a temperamental planet all the time?) and sometimes it's less okay

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[fighting_mad]

"No," Plourr is saying, "no--"

Babies are supposed to be able to get the gist of the word 'no,' at eight months old.

At eight months and two weeks, Ianna is apparently at the low end of the learning curve, because she is laughing and continuing to yank her mother's braid.

"--Ow, you little monster, are you trying to--"

The red-headed, hat-wearing princess has now stuck the end of the braid and half her chubby fist in her mouth.

"... Right. That's so much better."

Shaking her head (but only a little, because Ianna kind of has a firm grip on her hair here), Plourr continues in Wes's general direction.

[i_love_kettch]

Wes has approximately thirty-four years on Ianna, which must be why he's only biting his thumb instead of half his fist (and no one's hair).

This does not, however, do all that much to stifle his laughter.

"You've kinda got somethin' there," he calls, and gestures at his own head. "Stuck to your hair. Right-- yeah, right there."

[fighting_mad]

"It's a parasite," she says, and Ianna beams around her hand and the soggy tail of her mother's braid. "Better watch your ass, Janson; it's always looking for a new host."

Ths sounds threatening, somehow.

The parasite squeals happily.

[i_love_kettch]

"I don't taste good," he deadpans. "Overcooked bantha steak. You're much more appetising."

That can't be right.

He shakes his head and offers a rueful smile. "Fast-growin' parasite, though. How long have I been out of the loop?"

[fighting_mad]

She stops a couple of feet away, shifting Ianna up higher in her arms. "I'll keep that in mind," she says, rolling her eyes.

"About seven months, I think. Haven't see you for ages. Nobody's been around; you, Aeryn, Hobbie, Tycho -- I saw Wedge a couple months ago; did you realize the timestream got really kriffed up somewhere along the way? He got one look at Monster here and I thought his eyes were going to fall out of his head."

[i_love_kettch]

"--yeah," he confirms, far too cheerfully. "I'm the ranking officer here, now. Well, when I'm ever here. But did you take advantage of that? Mess with his head?"

Beat.

"Wait, you didn't actually name her Monster? I didn't think you were that amazing."

[fighting_mad]

"I did, a little, and I'm an empress. I don't care what you say; that outranks a lowly major."

She shoots him a flat look.

"Yes, Wes. I named my daughter Monster. That's exactly why I introduced her to you by a different name seven months ago. I was just waiting for the right opportunity to reveal my brilliance."

[i_love_kettch]

He gives her a thumbs-up, which turns into a dismissive wave just a second later. "Only on your crazy planet."

Ianna gets a rueful grin.

"You're going to be just like your mommy when you grow up, aren't you? Sarcastic and mean to your Uncle Wes. He's old, okay, and he's only going to get older, no matter what he tells girls in bars."

[fighting_mad]

"I can only dream, old man," Plourr tells him.

Ianna takes her mother's braid out of her mouth long enough to squeak; Plourr takes the opportunity to whip it out of reach.

Ianna looks very confused.

[i_love_kettch]

Wes laughs at that and wriggles his fingers at the little princess.

"--Ianna," he remembers abruptly, and then shakes his head at himself. "She'll be twenty before I ever remember her birthday. But I'm sure you'll beat it into me now I've said that."

[fighting_mad]

"Actually, I'm fine with missing out on whatever loud, annoying thing you're going to decide would be the perfect present. It probably won't have an 'off' protocol; it'll run almost as much as your mouth, and drive me twice as spaced."

Ianna says, "Ah bababa, ba! Ba!" to Wes, watching him (and, more importantly, his fingers) with Great Interest, brown eyes narrowed.

[i_love_kettch]

"I had no ideas before," he admits brightly, tapping Ianna on the nose, "but now you've said that, I've got a million. And favourite pilot uncles don't need silly excuses like birthdays to get gifts that'll drive parents crazy."

He grins at Ianna. "You'd love a talking Ewok, wouldn't you? And a little flying X-wing, and a toy lightsaber..."

[fighting_mad]

The baby's eyes cross, trying to follow the finger, and she beams brightly, making a grab for it.

"Hey." Plourr points at him immediately. "I told Wedge and I'll tell you, too; none of that uncle talk."

[i_love_kettch]

His grin only brightens as he lets Ianna grab his finger, though he makes a show of trying to tug away.

"What's wrong with uncle?" He eyes Plourr. "I'd make a great fake uncle. I can be the fun one and Wedge can be the old mean one who tells good stories."

[fighting_mad]

Ianna squeals with delight, holding on all the tighter and flapping her free hand. Her grin is wide and bright; she has a couple teeth coming in.

"You," Plourr says, "are no relation of mine. That could make your laserbrain catching.

"Take her for a minute, would you, if the two of you are such good buddies." It's really not a question; she's passing Ianna into his arms, careful but brisk. "Drop her and I'll kill you."