[Damon] Feeling Paternal (No, I'm Not!)
Who: Damon, Ami
Where: Medical Facility (the Staff), laundry room & corridor outside
When: Day 24, early morning
Invited: Open
Status: Incomplete
Amazingly enough, Damon discovered that the laundry room turned out to be the quietest place in the bunker. Even with the sloshing of the washer and the hum and buzz of the dryer, Aaron stopped his fussing and quieted right down. Or maybe it was because of the washer and dryer. But he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"I guess it really is all about white noise, huh?" He asked the baby softly as the blue eyes blinked and fluttered. "Well, whatever it takes to get you to rest, and get your Mum to rest too." Damon hopped up on the dryer with the babe cradled against his chest, a feat he never thought that he would have even contemplated attempting, never mind actually managing to carry out, with a few days old baby in his arms.
Stretching out so that he was sprawled over both the washer and the dryer, he carefully positioned Aaron on his chest. Aaron blinked at him, unrefined and jagged emotions rolling away from the baby - confusion or something like it melting into trust.
"That's right." Damon stroked the tiny head and soft downy red hair, sending soft pulses of calm and reassurance. "We're taking a nap in the laundry room, because you seem to like it in here. And yeah, I know I'm not Mum and I'm not as comfortable, but cut me some slack all right?"
As if understanding, the tiny eyes fluttered closed and in a few moments, Aaron slept soundly on his chest.
"Interesting place to sleep."
Damon turned his head slightly to see Ami standing in the doorway with a faint smile on her face.
"Aaron likes it in here. White noise, you know." Unwilling to disturb the sleeping infant, Damon reached out psychically, tentatively allowing his senses to wash over Ami. He felt a bit guilty, he really hadn't seen her since the rescue, getting his reports on her health and well-being from Scott. She felt stable now, though, normal and not brittle, but Damon could still feel traces of what could only be psychic rawness.
"You've been otherwise engaged," Ami said and he felt a pulse of friendly affection and understanding. "You don't have anything to feel guilty about."
"You're one of my best friends, I should have -"
"Done exactly what you did," Ami interrupted, drifting closer. As she moved into the light, Damon could see that she wasn't completely healthy yet. Her face was thinner, and there were still circles around her eyes, fainter than they had been the day of the rescue, but still there. The incongruous lock of silvery white hair fell into her eyes and she tucked it behind her ear. Catching his eyes, she smiled, "I think it gives me character."
"You're full of shit."
"I am not. I like it," Ami insisted, "And don't try to change the subject."
"What subject?"
The patented raised eyebrows were definitely one hundred percent Ami Jackson. "You did what you had to do. I had Scott. Claire needed you." She ran a finger lightly along Aaron's cheek, her smile growing in a way that Damon recognized as completely and wholly maternal.
"Should I warn Scott? Are you getting ideas?"
Ami looked up at him, meeting his eyes with a guilty flush. The flash of guilt that he felt from her wasn't suppressed quickly enough. "No, of course not. Not here, not now." Guilt was replaced with a hint of sadness mixed with envy before Ami shielded herself completely.
Though curious, Damon knew better than to ask. Obviously all was not completely well in Hayden-Jackson paradise, but it wasn't any business of his. He knew Ami well enough to know that if she wished to talk about it, she would and pressing her would only make her pissy.
"I'm glad you're recovering," Damon said instead. "It's good to see you - awake. And talking. Talking is a big, big plus."
Gratitude flowed from her and it wasn't only because of his words. It had as much to do with what he didn't say - or ask - as to what he did. "I get tired a lot. I don't have a lot of energy. I feel as though I've fought off some sort of bug, but it's just all those hormones they pumped me full of. Scott says they've practically levelled off to normal though."
"Good. Because you and hormones? Bad combination."
His playful teasing was received in the manner he expected, with a light punch on his arm. Far lighter than what it would have been if there hadn't been a baby sleeping on his chest.
"So, anyway, I was just coming to tell you congratulations."
"For what?"
Ami smirked, lifted Aaron's hand with a finger. "Aaron. Aren't you supposed to be passing out cigars or something?"
"What?" His voice actually squeaked.
"The proud papa is supposed -"
"I know what you said, but what the hell are you going on about, Aims? I'm not -"
"Aren't you?" Mischief twinkled in Ami's eyes, her mouth curled up into a broad smile. "Maybe you didn't provide the genetic material, but I think that it's pretty obvious whom he's bonding with besides his mother."
"He's two days old. He'll bond with anyone who will burp him and change his diaper."
"Right," Ami agreed. She pursed her lips, then asked, "How is your holiday going?"
"Are you sure that you should be up and walking around? 'Cause you're not making any sense at all anymore."
"I'm talking about that little trip you're taking, sailing down the river of denial."
"I'm not - he's not - Claire -" Damon forced himself to stop and try to find the words. He could feel his entire face flaming and it was too hard to organize his thoughts when Ami knew him so well and pegged him so accurately. "Look, just don't, all right? Claire's my friend and Aaron is . . . I'm Uncle Damon, okay? Don't - we're friends and I'm good with that, so just stop and don't say stuff like that."
Ami's face fell and then to his surprise she leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. He felt sympathy and reassurance from her as she stepped back and met his eyes. /Give it time, Megabyte. It *will* all work out in the end./
Where: Medical Facility (the Staff), laundry room & corridor outside
When: Day 24, early morning
Invited: Open
Status: Incomplete
Amazingly enough, Damon discovered that the laundry room turned out to be the quietest place in the bunker. Even with the sloshing of the washer and the hum and buzz of the dryer, Aaron stopped his fussing and quieted right down. Or maybe it was because of the washer and dryer. But he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"I guess it really is all about white noise, huh?" He asked the baby softly as the blue eyes blinked and fluttered. "Well, whatever it takes to get you to rest, and get your Mum to rest too." Damon hopped up on the dryer with the babe cradled against his chest, a feat he never thought that he would have even contemplated attempting, never mind actually managing to carry out, with a few days old baby in his arms.
Stretching out so that he was sprawled over both the washer and the dryer, he carefully positioned Aaron on his chest. Aaron blinked at him, unrefined and jagged emotions rolling away from the baby - confusion or something like it melting into trust.
"That's right." Damon stroked the tiny head and soft downy red hair, sending soft pulses of calm and reassurance. "We're taking a nap in the laundry room, because you seem to like it in here. And yeah, I know I'm not Mum and I'm not as comfortable, but cut me some slack all right?"
As if understanding, the tiny eyes fluttered closed and in a few moments, Aaron slept soundly on his chest.
"Interesting place to sleep."
Damon turned his head slightly to see Ami standing in the doorway with a faint smile on her face.
"Aaron likes it in here. White noise, you know." Unwilling to disturb the sleeping infant, Damon reached out psychically, tentatively allowing his senses to wash over Ami. He felt a bit guilty, he really hadn't seen her since the rescue, getting his reports on her health and well-being from Scott. She felt stable now, though, normal and not brittle, but Damon could still feel traces of what could only be psychic rawness.
"You've been otherwise engaged," Ami said and he felt a pulse of friendly affection and understanding. "You don't have anything to feel guilty about."
"You're one of my best friends, I should have -"
"Done exactly what you did," Ami interrupted, drifting closer. As she moved into the light, Damon could see that she wasn't completely healthy yet. Her face was thinner, and there were still circles around her eyes, fainter than they had been the day of the rescue, but still there. The incongruous lock of silvery white hair fell into her eyes and she tucked it behind her ear. Catching his eyes, she smiled, "I think it gives me character."
"You're full of shit."
"I am not. I like it," Ami insisted, "And don't try to change the subject."
"What subject?"
The patented raised eyebrows were definitely one hundred percent Ami Jackson. "You did what you had to do. I had Scott. Claire needed you." She ran a finger lightly along Aaron's cheek, her smile growing in a way that Damon recognized as completely and wholly maternal.
"Should I warn Scott? Are you getting ideas?"
Ami looked up at him, meeting his eyes with a guilty flush. The flash of guilt that he felt from her wasn't suppressed quickly enough. "No, of course not. Not here, not now." Guilt was replaced with a hint of sadness mixed with envy before Ami shielded herself completely.
Though curious, Damon knew better than to ask. Obviously all was not completely well in Hayden-Jackson paradise, but it wasn't any business of his. He knew Ami well enough to know that if she wished to talk about it, she would and pressing her would only make her pissy.
"I'm glad you're recovering," Damon said instead. "It's good to see you - awake. And talking. Talking is a big, big plus."
Gratitude flowed from her and it wasn't only because of his words. It had as much to do with what he didn't say - or ask - as to what he did. "I get tired a lot. I don't have a lot of energy. I feel as though I've fought off some sort of bug, but it's just all those hormones they pumped me full of. Scott says they've practically levelled off to normal though."
"Good. Because you and hormones? Bad combination."
His playful teasing was received in the manner he expected, with a light punch on his arm. Far lighter than what it would have been if there hadn't been a baby sleeping on his chest.
"So, anyway, I was just coming to tell you congratulations."
"For what?"
Ami smirked, lifted Aaron's hand with a finger. "Aaron. Aren't you supposed to be passing out cigars or something?"
"What?" His voice actually squeaked.
"The proud papa is supposed -"
"I know what you said, but what the hell are you going on about, Aims? I'm not -"
"Aren't you?" Mischief twinkled in Ami's eyes, her mouth curled up into a broad smile. "Maybe you didn't provide the genetic material, but I think that it's pretty obvious whom he's bonding with besides his mother."
"He's two days old. He'll bond with anyone who will burp him and change his diaper."
"Right," Ami agreed. She pursed her lips, then asked, "How is your holiday going?"
"Are you sure that you should be up and walking around? 'Cause you're not making any sense at all anymore."
"I'm talking about that little trip you're taking, sailing down the river of denial."
"I'm not - he's not - Claire -" Damon forced himself to stop and try to find the words. He could feel his entire face flaming and it was too hard to organize his thoughts when Ami knew him so well and pegged him so accurately. "Look, just don't, all right? Claire's my friend and Aaron is . . . I'm Uncle Damon, okay? Don't - we're friends and I'm good with that, so just stop and don't say stuff like that."
Ami's face fell and then to his surprise she leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. He felt sympathy and reassurance from her as she stepped back and met his eyes. /Give it time, Megabyte. It *will* all work out in the end./