InsaneJournal

Who: Kirsty and Giles.
What: Singing and dancing and pancakes.
When: Saturday afternoon.
Where: Their condo.
Rating: PG-13 for language and innuendo.
Status: Complete!



“You can forget it,” said Babcock. The dog sitting in front of him tilted its head in a way that could almost be described as manipulatively cute. “Do that all you want, you’re not getting the bacon. Nope.”

Giles Babcock was frying up several slices of bacon, waiting for Kirsty to come home. Kirsty Cotton. His girlfriend...a word he had never really used before. He’d slept with women, he’d even slept with them more than once. Ultimately, however, people found him disagreeable in some way or otherwise beneath them. So he was discarded as simply as anything else. Now he had someone who claimed to love him, and as far as Babcock could tell, he loved her too. For Babcock, love was something he held tightly and with fierce protectiveness...he’d loved his mother when he didn’t know her, after all.

The dog whined. Babcock looked at him. “You’re getting a tiny piece, and that’s all I’m hearing of it,” he said firmly, picking up a small slice and tossing it into the dog’s eager mouth. “Now I’m hoping to have crazy sex with the boss lady tonight, so entertain yourself with that squirrel that keeps taunting you through the window.” Duke whined again. “I know he’s a smartass, but bare with it.” He reached down and scratched behind the dog’s ear. “Good boy.”

In the next few seconds, he scooped the bacon onto a plate next to buttered pieces of bread and thick pancakes.

Kirsty was in a fantastic mood. Not only had she been able to save Duke from the needle (because that dog had been a better cop than most people she knew, and he didn’t deserve that fate), but she’d closed a case on top of it. She felt like singing. Which was exactly what she’d done on the drive home, at the top of her lungs.

In fact. It seemed like she couldn’t stop. Every now and then she burst out into random snatches of song, fits and starts that said too much about her mindset. Humming under her breath as she parked the unmarked that she got as part of her tenure, she let herself into her house.

Mmm. Pancakes. “I love you, Giles Babcock,” she called out, chuckling when Duke came running instead. “You’re not my boyfriend, what’re you doing here?” Leaning down, she let the dog kiss her face, wrinkling her nose when dog tongue got too close to her mouth.

Giles smiled, placing two plates on the kitchen table. It was nice to hear it. It was nice to be loved, or however it felt when she said it. When he saw her, Babcock went to say hello. Instead, to his utter surprise, he was singing.

“I've felt you coming, girl, as you drew near
I knew you'd find me, 'cause I longed you here
Are you my destiny?
Is this how you'll appear?”

He stopped for a moment, and considered. “I don’t know how that happened.”

Kirsty smiled up at him for a moment before tiptoeing up to kiss his cheek. “Well, however it happened, it was sweet. You know, your voice isn’t half horrible.”

But then it so happened that song was wrested from her own throat, an unwilling trill that made her cheeks go red.

“Heaven has denied us its kingdom
The saints are drunk howling at the moon
The chariots of angels are colliding
Well, I'll run, babe, but I'll come running
Straight to you
For I am captured
Straight to you
For I am captured
One more time.”

She blinked. “... the fuck?”

Giles looked down briefly in embarrassment, but quickly smiled when Kirsty began singing herself. “Hey, and your voice isn’t half bad either,” he said, teasingly. “And yeah, ‘the fuck’ is how I’m reacting. Doesn’t feel like....uh...”

He seemed to consider for a moment, then shook his head and gestured to the table. “Well, it’s cool that I’m song-worthy,” he said. “And so are you. You’re...” And then his arms were around her, and he was pulling her into an embrace that began to sway to unheard music.

“You’re the head on the spear
You’re the nail on the cross
You’re the fly in my beer
You’re the key that got lost,” he sang, taking her into a bizarre, crooked waltz that spun them both around the kitchen. “You’re the letter from Jesus on the bathroom wall,” he continued, his eyes dropping to her cleavage and dipping her slightly. “You’re mother superior, in only a bra-” He took her back to her feet. “You’re the same kind of Bad as Me!”

Babcock eased her into the chair at the table, before standing back up.
“I’m the hat on the bed
I’m the coffee instead
The fish or cut bait
I’m the detective up late
I’m the blood on the floor
The thunder and the roar
The boat that won’t sink
I just won’t sleep a wink,” Babcock suddenly pointed to her with a wicked smile. “You’re the same kind of Bad as Me!”

Kirsty couldn’t help but surrender to the song and dance, and if she were telling the truth, she wouldn’t want to stop it anyway. This was fun, and they’d both long needed fun in their lives.

“You’re the wreath that caught fire
You’re the preach to the choir
You bite down on the sheet
But your teeth have been wired
You skid in the rain
You’re trying to shift
You’re grinding the gears
You’re trying to shift
And you’re the same kind of bad as me

They told me you were no good
I know you’ll take care of all my needs
You’re the same kind of bad as me.”

Kirsty was actually quite a capable dancer, and she twirled around Giles, dancing near him instead of with him, grinning when she ended up on his lap. “The dog’s going to think we’re insane.”

Babcock pulled her tighter against him. “Eh, he’s a dog. He don’t have a union or nothing,” he said, kissing her. Without moving, he continued the song quietly. I’m the mattress in the back
I’m the old gunnysack
I’m the one with the gun
Most likely to run
I’m the car in the weeds
If you cut me I’ll bleed...”

Babcock leaned in to kiss her again, running a hand through her dark hair. “You’re the same kind of Bad as Me...”

His voice made Kirsty shiver, and she grinned up at him, kissing his chin. “To be fair, the dog did at one point have union representation. I think he outranks me,” she teased.

Straddling him, she shook her head happily. “I have no idea what’s gotten into us, but it’s fun.”

“Kind of terrifying,” he said, correcting her and placing his hands on her waist. “But strange things just happen in this town, I guess. Sometimes I worry that I’m hallucinating everything, but I don’t think I could imagine you. I’m not that creative.”

Giles laughed a little and groaned, palming his forehead. “God, you’ve got me acting all weird and cheesy and shit. I even made dinner for someone other than myself, which is fucking unprecedented,” he said. “Speaking of which, it’s getting cold. C’mon, eat my meat.”

“Can I do that after dinner?” She kissed his jaw lightly, having to hop up to do it. “And you say you’re not a good man. You’re the best one.”

Babcock’s expression turned a little. “I’m not, but...let’s just eat,” he said, exhaling. “Just don’t tell the dog.”