Archive of Our Own ^beta

They'll come any moment, Joe's thundering, gullumping footsteps plodding through this room. How he could be so loud in stocking feet is beyond me. I don't need to look up; I can hear them now on the other side of the adjoining door. Any moment now. How did I know? Because within minutes of room arrangements, Joe's looks like a tornado has run through it, so he finds me and my sanity and does his best to separate the two. He could easily solve the problem by not 'tornadoing', actually packing with some semblance of organization, but no. He could find Phil perhaps, but Phil's found either a bird, or a gym, or on his best day, both. Viv and Rick are enjoying a well, wherever we are, it's the best of what this town has to offer and it's probably wafting into the hallway by now.

I could change my routine, but I'd miss out on 'other amenities', so I don't. I play the same part in this show of ours and so does he and it suits us just fine.

Knowing what I know about how these first hours ALWAYS go, I don't bother looking up even after Joe heads to the loo to look for whatever he's forgotten or can't find. And then my stomach drops. There's no way he won't...

And I'm dead. That high-pitchy, shakey rattle. I'll never live this down.

"Sav! What the hell is this?"

And I'm in the loo before he finishes the sentence, but he's holding the bottle high as he can over his head.

"Arsehole, come on. Give it! It's for my hair you twat. Remember what Brian said, "And I poked him in the stomach for emphasis. "Don't get fat and don't lose your hair." And oh, did I get a death glare on that one. Personally, I'm quite happy to have a bit of padding when taking his pounding, if I may, but he can be sensitive about it. He dances behind me and put the bottle behind his back.

"Seriously Sav? Pre-natal vitamins?"

"Me mum's hairdresser told her. What's the harm? Vitamins a vitamin"

And then the eyes - when they narrow like that, the eyes tell you, you will not win this one. You will have no comeback - nothing. He leans in real close to my ear. "Are you sure? You sure you don't want me to put a baby in you?" His own maniacal laughter chases him out the door he came in - near kills himself tripping over his trainers. I'll run after him, but not before crossing the hall to pound on that door. God, the smell.

"Dammit, Rick!"

I'm back through the adjoining door because Joe wouldn't dare lock me out. In fact, he's attempting to crouch behind the bed, still giggling. Giants are known to be stupid, and he's no exception. "Happy fuckin' birthday Joe." I grouse at him as best I can; it's not very effective when I'm grinning like idiot. Stripping off my joggers shut him up immediately. Pink lace'll do it every time.