040. All My Love

[samson]

[Ezio Auditore]
Hey, man. So ... last year when these magic babies disappeared, Molotov kind of wigged out. So just keep an eye out for that, I guess.

[Cross Marian]
[WOW HE STILL HATES YOU hear that terseness in his tone, bro?]

Hey. Molotov might flip out soon. And she likes you, so just keep an eye on her.

[Room 509]
[Welp, it's Saturday night, and Brock had sort of been dreading it. He was trying not to think about Andy going home tomorrow -- maybe she wouldn't, you know? Sometimes things here lasted longer than they were "supposed to."

But that still didn't keep him from deciding he was going to stay awake well past midnight to keep an eye on his fake impossible magic baby for as long as humanly possible.

He's on his way through the living room when he notices a door. Like, a freestanding door that wasn't there before.]

Uh. Hey, Molotov? What's this thing?

Comments

[molotov]

[Molotov smiles as best she can (it's tight and maybe just a little pained), then stoops and picks Andy up.] You made me a book?

[samson]

[Andy thrusts the packet into Molotov's face.] Yes, to read!

[Since Brock had been rummaging through her drawers like a creep, he already found some pajamas, so he takes those out. Like everything else in the room, it was girly and fit for a princess. Probably had rhinestones on it or something.]

[molotov]

[Blinking and leaning back, Molotov sat down in a chair in the corner of the room.] Are you going to read it to me?

[samson]

[Andropov shakes her head, pointing at Molotov.] You have to do it.

[molotov]

[Molotov looks desperately at Brock, plastering a very fake smile on her face.] Maybe Daddy can read it to us.

["Because if I have to do it, I will not be able to hold it together," is the end of that thought.]

[samson]

[Brock catches that, furrowing his brow at her a little, then holds out the nightgown to exchange it for the little construction paper book.] Get her ready for bed and I'll read it.

[molotov]

Da.

{Molotov hands over the book and takes the nightgown, then stands Andropov on the ground to start changing her.] Arms up.

[samson]

[Andropov giggles and does as she's told, though she's a little bouncy. She is too wound up to go to bed!

Brock clears his throat and starts to read.] "My Week At The Castle. By Andy."

Daddy did the letters!

[molotov]

[Molotov pulls the nightgown over Andy's head.] Oh, he did? That explains why they look like you did them.

[She tickles Andy's sides a little, not looking at Brock. Hopefully he understands that insulting him is one of her very few coping mechanisms.]

[samson]

[Wow Molotov, didn't they just have a conversation about teasing?!?!!! But he's not going to get into it now, harrumph. Though he does roll his eyes.]

Ha ha. Anyway. Here's the picture. [He turns the packet around so Molotov can see the cover, then opens it.] "I was at a castle with Daddy and Mama."

Mama, you have to look at the picture!

[molotov]

[Well, I mean, she could start crying again? Would he rather have that? Asshole.

She picks Andy back up and carries her over to the bed, looking over at the picture as she flops down with her daughter.] Oh, so good! Better than Picasso, for sure.

[samson]

[Not until after the babby is asleep, anyway! Sigh.

Brock shows her the picture when Andy says, looking down at it too.]

Yes, because I drew it! Now Daddy, turn the page. [Demanding, just like Mama!! Speaking of whom, Andy cuddles up with her.

Brock rolls his eyes again and turns the page.] "I met their friends." Uh, I guess this is Spike, and ...

[He shows the drawing to Molotov.]

[molotov]

[Molotov strokes Andy's hair, feeling her breath catch for just a second as she has to steady herself psychologically.]

Who is that other one, Andropov?

[samson]

Umm, I don't know! He was boring and he called me potatoes.

[molotov]

Ahh, Ezio, da. He is just not used to children.

[samson]

I am still not potatoes! [She snuggles into Molotov's side, pausing for a moment before turning to Brock.] Daddy, you have to keep reading!

[Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Brock turns the page and pauses for a moment before reading, showing Molotov the page with a quirked eyebrow.] "I had a tea party with Daddy."

[molotov]

No, you are not potatoes. [Molotov's voice is soft as she runs her fingers through Andropov's curls. She looks at the page, though, smiling a little.] Is Daddy a good tea party guest?

[samson]

He is okay. He would not wear party clothes.

I didn't have any party clothes.

[molotov]

Daddy has a tuxedo. Next time, make him wear it.

[samson]

[Brock's smile falters a little when she says that, though Andy doesn't seem to notice. She's just shocked that Brock didn't wear a tuxedo!] Yeah, Daddy! You shoulda weared it!

I shoulda, you're right. [Keep it together, Samson. Swallowing, he turns the page and shows it to Molotov.] "I saw the bears."

Umm, he's on a box because I drew it wrong.

[molotov]

[Brock faltering makes Molotov falter, and she glances to the side, rolling her eye to the ceiling for a second before she looks back at the page.]

Nyet nyet, no, baby. You drew him perfect, Mishka would like it.

[samson]

You gotta show it to him. You gotta say, "This is you," and tell him I drew it. [Andy yawns and cuddles up to Molotov again, closing her eyes. She waves at Brock though, over her shoulder.] Daddy Daddy you need to finish it.

[Obediently turning the page, Brock shows Molotov the drawing.] "I drew this for Mama. Daddy helps."

[molotov]

[Molotov swallows hard and screws up her face, but nods vigorously as she wraps her arms tightly around Andropov.]

[samson]

[Brock exhales hard and turns to the last page, showing Molotov just out of habit, since she's not looking anymore.] "The end."

Love, Andy! Heart!

[molotov]

[Molotov doesn't really trust herself to speak right now, so she just nods again and presses her face into Andropov's hair, rocking them back and forth.]