Babies
Rating: PG
Fandom: Runaways
Characters: Yorkeses
Prompt: Could Of
Notes: For the Lover100 challenge. Also, I made that photograph up.
Disclaimer: This is me owning nothing.
Summary: Dale's looking at pictures.
060: Could Of
Stacey pauses on her way to the bedroom to watch Dale flip through a magazine. She wonders what it is, since Dale is not much for magazines, and slips up to peer over his shoulder. He quickly snaps it shut and tries to hide it.
"Dale, why are you looking through ‘Family Circle?’" she asks gently, not judgmental, not condemning. He likes to cook. She figures he’s looking at recipes, or something.
"I," he falters. "Was looking at the photographs." He sounds guilty. His voice has a pained edge to it.
"Which ones?"
He looks away from her. Studies his shoes. Opens the magazine to a photograph of a red-headed woman and a man with a moustache holding a baby between them.
"Dale?"
"It’s stupid. Don’t worry over it." He closes the magazine and stuffs it in the nearest trash can.
"You… You want one, don’t you?" she asks, miserable.
Miserable because she’s not sure she can give him any. Miserable because of the Pride. Miserable because of the Gibborim. Miserable because of time and space and existence and everything.
"I wanted a dozen. It doesn’t matter now."
She sighs. "You shouldn’t have married me. You could have been happy."
"Stacey, I couldn’t be happier than I am with you," he says, playing with his wedding band. "You are my light and my life and I don’t need children while I’m with you. Besides, what would we do once we had it? The world’s going to end at our hands, anyway."
She hugged herself and thought a moment. "I could give it," she began.
"No you couldn’t."
"Oh?"
"I would follow you to hell. Do not even suggest that."
He turns in his seat and pulls her over the back of the couch and into his lap. She’s shaking a little. He kisses her gently and hides the pain in his eyes like a master.
"Dale, we can have a baby."
"Yes. It can have my spot."
"No."
She wraps her arms around his neck. He holds her for a long moment.
"Stacey, we don’t need children."
She nuzzles his neck. "I want you to be happy."
"Then be happy with me."
Fandom: Runaways
Characters: Yorkeses
Prompt: Could Of
Notes: For the Lover100 challenge. Also, I made that photograph up.
Disclaimer: This is me owning nothing.
Summary: Dale's looking at pictures.
060: Could Of
Stacey pauses on her way to the bedroom to watch Dale flip through a magazine. She wonders what it is, since Dale is not much for magazines, and slips up to peer over his shoulder. He quickly snaps it shut and tries to hide it.
"Dale, why are you looking through ‘Family Circle?’" she asks gently, not judgmental, not condemning. He likes to cook. She figures he’s looking at recipes, or something.
"I," he falters. "Was looking at the photographs." He sounds guilty. His voice has a pained edge to it.
"Which ones?"
He looks away from her. Studies his shoes. Opens the magazine to a photograph of a red-headed woman and a man with a moustache holding a baby between them.
"Dale?"
"It’s stupid. Don’t worry over it." He closes the magazine and stuffs it in the nearest trash can.
"You… You want one, don’t you?" she asks, miserable.
Miserable because she’s not sure she can give him any. Miserable because of the Pride. Miserable because of the Gibborim. Miserable because of time and space and existence and everything.
"I wanted a dozen. It doesn’t matter now."
She sighs. "You shouldn’t have married me. You could have been happy."
"Stacey, I couldn’t be happier than I am with you," he says, playing with his wedding band. "You are my light and my life and I don’t need children while I’m with you. Besides, what would we do once we had it? The world’s going to end at our hands, anyway."
She hugged herself and thought a moment. "I could give it," she began.
"No you couldn’t."
"Oh?"
"I would follow you to hell. Do not even suggest that."
He turns in his seat and pulls her over the back of the couch and into his lap. She’s shaking a little. He kisses her gently and hides the pain in his eyes like a master.
"Dale, we can have a baby."
"Yes. It can have my spot."
"No."
She wraps her arms around his neck. He holds her for a long moment.
"Stacey, we don’t need children."
She nuzzles his neck. "I want you to be happy."
"Then be happy with me."