two guys and a baby post
Oct. 2nd, 2025 05:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
youmynockI've been yammering about this little scene for a bit, but I don't want to post it standalone on AO3 since it really belongs in a larger fic. Figured I would post it here so if the three folks who already saw it and I are babbling about the lifelong friendship of General Cracken and Baby Ty, you have some way of knowing what cheesy raccoonery Mynock's written this time.
(If anyone manages to wander through here that doesn't know me from Discord, this is probably very strange out of context. allow me to explain with this link to the girl wes universe)
"Are you actually allowed to bring a baby to one of these things?"
The public part of their spectacular return from Thyferra has ended, giving way to the private reception--confetti cleaned up, civilians hustled along home, pilots nagged into changing out of their flight suits--but not even the dreaded dress uniforms and obsequious politicians can quite put a damper on the day's reunions. It's good to be back. Even better to see Wes and Hobbie, unexpectedly here on Coruscant instead of off at the training base, with Wes flying lead in a placeholder Rogue Squadron.
Tycho's free, Wes and Hobbie are here, they're in a room full of old friends. Ty's burbling happily as Wedge holds him for the first time in almost a year. It's a damn good day.
Ty does not care one bit if he is allowed here or not. He's looking this way and that with wide-eyed glee, pointing his chubby baby finger at everything in sight. He's gotten so big since Wedge last saw him in person and it hits him like a physical ache, that the little guy is growing up right here in front of them.
"No one said we couldn't bring him," Wes reasons, as though she and Hobbie actually asked rather than simply showing up like this and waiting for someone to tell them no.
The mood is so over-the-top celebratory, the New Republic determined to act like the Rogues' victory at Thyferra was their plan all along, she probably could have brought a dozen random orphans trailing after her like lost bantha calves and no one would've batted an eye.
"Dih," Ty says, jabbing his finger in Wedge's face.
"Nose," Wedge answers, tapping his nose, then Ty's. "My nose, your nose." Ty squints and drools at him in disbelief, a literally spitting image of Hobbie.
Wes smiles, all fondness and dimples. "Anyway, last time I left him home alone he got into the moonshine and burned down the barn."
This means something like, they don't have a sitter because everyone on planet they know is here, but also, never leave a feral Taanab farm child home alone.
"Dih!" Ty insists, pointing again, this time at the medals pinned to Wedge's lapel. To be fair, they are very shiny in a way that seems almost unfairly likely to be interesting to babies.
"Kalidor Crescent," Wes says, poking the most offensive medal. "It means Uncle Boss is hot shit. Allegedly."
She also has a Kalidor Crescent and he knows for a fact she's rather proud of it, but let her have her fun.
"Can you say shit to a baby," he asks, unpinning the offending medal and giving it to Ty for a closer look. He immediately puts it in his mouth. "More important, can he eat that?"
He fully expects a dismissive wave--let my son eat whatever prestigious military honors he wants, Antilles--but instead she blinks at him and says, "Pin."
Oh, right.
He extracts it from Ty's mouth before the kid can stab himself. "Sorry, kid. Plenty of time for unfortunate facial piercings in your teenage years."
Miffed, Ty brandishes the medal in one fist and, pointing at Wedge's nose again, repeats, "Dih!"
"Nose," says Wes. She repeats the ritual of pointing out noses: "Ty's nose, Mama's nose, Uncle Commander Sir's nose."
"Bah."
"And bah to you, my son."
Wedge pats the baby's puff of blond hair with his free hand, bounces him a little. "So," he says to Wes, sensing his opening. "Have you thought about what's next? Are you staying back on active duty?"
She and Hobbs must've thought about it. Leading the placeholder Rogues seems to have been mostly flying patrols and looking the part, but it's still active duty, her first stint at it since they went off to the training base and had Ty. Unless--maybe they didn't have much of a choice about coming to Coruscant. Maybe Command wanted Wes where they could see her, while Wedge was off playing warlord. He knows damn well what they all think of her, even Ackbar, who's kinder about it than most.
Wes bites her lip, an expression she picked up from Hobbie somewhere along the way. Whatever she's about to tell him, he's not gonna like it. "About that--"
She doesn't get the chance, because two things happen at once: Ty, with a demanding "Dih!", shoves his finger directly up Wedge's nose, and behind him, an unmistakable voice says, "Hello, Commander Antilles."
Wes goes wide-eyed with hastily suppressed laughter as Wedge immediately, instinctively turns, baby finger in nostril, finds he cannot salute due to said baby held in his right arm, prioritizes shifting the baby over removal of the finger but thankfully dislodges the finger in the process--Ty, displeased, grumbles, "Dah dah dah blah BAH," and begins an exploration of Wedge's other nostril--which Wedge is unable to prevent, because he's in the middle of saluting.
Wes leans over, removes Ty's pudgy hand from Wedge's face, and brings it instead to her son's forehead, puppeting a salute.
"General Cracken, sir," Wedge manages, fully realizing that there's an embarrassed flush starting along his hairline.
Cracken returns the salute, his lip twitching near-imperceptibly before his handsome features settle into a cordial expression. His green eyes, bright and sharp as ever, flick between Wedge, Wes, and Ty. "I hope I'm not interrupting."
What the hell could he possibly want right now?
Somehow in the past couple years Wedge has picked up the vaguest notion of decorum, and good thing, because Wes certainly hasn't--he slants a glance over to her, snickering into her drink and not helping at all, vengeance will be had--so he replies, recovering, "Not at all, sir. I'm not sure if you've met Captain Wes Janson?"
See how you like being on the spot, Janson, so there.
Cracken offers one of his small, disarming smiles, which Wedge trusts about as much as Ty's impulse control. "The name sounds familiar. Were you recently Rogue Leader, by any chance, Captain?"
The huge grin Wes has worn all day somehow, impossibly, widens even further, dimples radiating charm. She's absolutely glowing with delight. It's dreadful.
"You know, sir, I think we might've both attacked the same Death Star. Have you ever gunned for the Millenium Falcon?"
Cracken replies, perfectly straight-faced, "Ah, that's right. We all overthrew a government together, didn't we."
"You might not remember, Wedge, it was a couple governments ago for you," says Wes.
Well, vengeance has backfired. They might as well be giggling at him behind their hands like schoolchildren.
"It was the Poln mission, wasn't it, Captain, the first time we worked together? You were in high spirits, I recall."
Oh no. Oh, Janson. You didn't.
Confirming his sudden horror, Wes says, "Can't blame a girl for trying. Besides, you were only a Colonel back then."
Ty's putting the Kalidor Crescent in his mouth again. Baby Janson, no. Damnit. Multi-task, Antilles, come on.
He pins Wes with a sideways look until she glances over, extricating the medal from Ty's mouth in the meantime, then moves his eyebrows a bare millimeter at her.
She says, "Nose," moving Ty's finger away from Wedge's face again, and scrunches her own nose at Wedge in the most microscopic of scrunches. One day someone's going to break it again and he will offer her no sympathy, the menace.
Who's he kidding. Cracken's old enough to be her father and outranks her by several levels. Of course she did.
"You were very young," says Cracken, with dry amusement, "and I was very married, at the time."
"Ah, well. Worked out for me." She holds up her hand and wiggles her fingers, making her wedding ring sparkle in the light. Not like you can fucking miss it, she's wearing her fancy one and it's crusted with gaudy, sparkling red and orange Corusca gems. Wedge has no idea how Hobbie afforded it and never plans to ask.
"It's an eye-catching ring, Captain."
Wes slinks a glance at Wedge--with a significance he does not understand and does not like--and replies to Cracken, "I'll send you the name of the jeweler."
The shiny object on his mother's hand is too great a temptation for Ty. He makes a grab for it with a loud "Bah!" and nearly topples himself out of Wedge's arms in the undertaking.
"Whoa," says Wedge, catching him. He taps the Kalidor Crescent in Ty's hand, informing him, "You've already got a shiny, Ty-Ty."
Cracken lets out a little smile, and says, "I'm afraid I'm not acquainted with this young man." Perhaps wondering why Wedge is holding a baby, or why the baby is holding a medal. "I hope that isn't stolen valor."
He's--making jokes? About the baby? Why is he even talking to them. Did he come over here to spy on Ty, for some insane reason? The fuck?
"Say, Wedge," says Wes, "where was it you got the kid, again?"
He's going to break her nose himself, see if he doesn't.
He forces himself to look Cracken in the face, and can't even fully appreciate the man's puzzled expression, because he's too busy plotting to murder Wes.
"She's kidding, sir, this is her son. Hers and Hobbie's."
Remember Hobbie, Janson? Your husband that you're a lunatic for? Go flirt with him instead of Airen fucking Cracken, maybe.
"I've never seen him before in my life," Wes says promptly.
"Dih," says Ty, pointing.
"Nose," all three adults say at once.
"No!" he says, and throws the Kalidor Crescent directly at Cracken. It hits the general square in the face, and bounces to the floor.
"Well," Wedge says, unable to stop himself, "he has your aim, Wes."
Wes announces, "I'm gonna go bother Tycho," tosses out a horrible salute towards Cracken, and flees.
"You forgot something!" Wedge calls after her, still holding Ty.
She doesn't even turn. "Find me if he pukes!"
Someday he's going to travel back in time to Yavin IV and make his younger self request a transfer to Renegade flight. The past several years surely would have held fewer headaches if he'd transferred to Renegade flight.
"Apologies, General." He adjusts his grip on Ty and crouches down to pick up the medal. He makes the mistake of glancing at Cracken as he does so and has the disorienting experience of looking up at Cracken's blank stare. He straightens abruptly and clears his throat, so flustered that he gives the medal back to Ty rather than pinning it back on.
It takes Cracken a moment to formulate a response, which seems fair given how ridiculous this whole interaction has been. "I'm not so unreasonable as to expect an apology for the behavior of a baby, Commander. I did raise two myself."
"Apologies for his mother, I mean. Okay, okay, kiddo, copy that." Ty's now squirming, wanting to be put down, and there's not much point in fighting it. Wedge puts him down and he immediately bumps into a nearby chair, falls, recovers, and toddles off in a different direction, leaving the adults no choice but to follow a step behind.
"Also unnecessary. Anyone who expects apologies for the behavior of Captain Janson clearly has never heard of her. Oh, careful, sprout." He redirects Ty out of the path of a droid laden with a tray, narrowly averting a collision, then seamlessly resumes his train of thought, "Besides, I've always found her rather charming."
What does that mean.
"Do you," Wedge challenges. The coldness of his tone is somewhat undermined when he has to hastily stop Ty before he crawls under a table.
Cracken blinks at him, and Wedge can almost--but not quite--believe it's an involuntary reaction. "I mean no offense," he says. "I know she's very dear to you."
That means, people think Wedge is fucking her. Those rumors have been swirling around Starfighter Command for the better part of a decade, just won't fucking die, not even when she got married or when they spent two years mostly on opposite sides of the galaxy.
He resolves to make an exit from this conversation before he loses his temper, and, well, he's certainly not going to comment on the subject of him and Wes. "I should get Ty back to his parents," he says, scooping him up mid-toddle. "Was there anything else you wanted, sir?"
The expression on Cracken's face is completely opaque. "No, nothing else. Only to congratulate you on your return. I'll let you enjoy the time with your people."
To Wedge's surprise, he turns his attention to Ty instead of immediately walking away. "It was an honor to meet you, Ty," he says, with that particular solemnity of someone using adult speech with a baby. "I daresay Captain Celchu couldn't ask for a finer namesake."
"Ah dih," Ty says, bobbing his silly blond baby head. He waves the hand still clutching Wedge's Kalidor Crescent.
"Ah," Cracken says. He slants another look at Wedge, and takes the medal from Ty, perhaps to prevent him from throwing it again. "I think that's Uncle Wedge's, isn't it?"
Perhaps it's the absurdity of hearing the name Uncle Wedge come out of Cracken's mouth, perhaps it's just disbelief at this entire conversation from start to finish. Whatever the reason, he finds himself completely frozen in place as Cracken takes a step closer, and carefully pins the medal back in place on Wedge's lapel.
Uhm.
He adjusts the fold of the jacket, just so, as Wedge stares at him, bewildered.
"Welcome home, Commander Antilles," he says, and takes his leave, before Wedge can even shake himself back to reality to salute.
To make matters worse, he turns to look anywhere but the direction Cracken left in, and finds that Hobbie, Tycho, and Gavin are all staring openly at him, a few meters away. With them is Wes, notably not staring, because she's too busy laughing her ass off, doubled over and wheezing.
"What just happened," he asks Ty.
"Ah bwah," says Ty, most reasonably.
Right. Of course.
(If anyone manages to wander through here that doesn't know me from Discord, this is probably very strange out of context. allow me to explain with this link to the girl wes universe)
"Are you actually allowed to bring a baby to one of these things?"
The public part of their spectacular return from Thyferra has ended, giving way to the private reception--confetti cleaned up, civilians hustled along home, pilots nagged into changing out of their flight suits--but not even the dreaded dress uniforms and obsequious politicians can quite put a damper on the day's reunions. It's good to be back. Even better to see Wes and Hobbie, unexpectedly here on Coruscant instead of off at the training base, with Wes flying lead in a placeholder Rogue Squadron.
Tycho's free, Wes and Hobbie are here, they're in a room full of old friends. Ty's burbling happily as Wedge holds him for the first time in almost a year. It's a damn good day.
Ty does not care one bit if he is allowed here or not. He's looking this way and that with wide-eyed glee, pointing his chubby baby finger at everything in sight. He's gotten so big since Wedge last saw him in person and it hits him like a physical ache, that the little guy is growing up right here in front of them.
"No one said we couldn't bring him," Wes reasons, as though she and Hobbie actually asked rather than simply showing up like this and waiting for someone to tell them no.
The mood is so over-the-top celebratory, the New Republic determined to act like the Rogues' victory at Thyferra was their plan all along, she probably could have brought a dozen random orphans trailing after her like lost bantha calves and no one would've batted an eye.
"Dih," Ty says, jabbing his finger in Wedge's face.
"Nose," Wedge answers, tapping his nose, then Ty's. "My nose, your nose." Ty squints and drools at him in disbelief, a literally spitting image of Hobbie.
Wes smiles, all fondness and dimples. "Anyway, last time I left him home alone he got into the moonshine and burned down the barn."
This means something like, they don't have a sitter because everyone on planet they know is here, but also, never leave a feral Taanab farm child home alone.
"Dih!" Ty insists, pointing again, this time at the medals pinned to Wedge's lapel. To be fair, they are very shiny in a way that seems almost unfairly likely to be interesting to babies.
"Kalidor Crescent," Wes says, poking the most offensive medal. "It means Uncle Boss is hot shit. Allegedly."
She also has a Kalidor Crescent and he knows for a fact she's rather proud of it, but let her have her fun.
"Can you say shit to a baby," he asks, unpinning the offending medal and giving it to Ty for a closer look. He immediately puts it in his mouth. "More important, can he eat that?"
He fully expects a dismissive wave--let my son eat whatever prestigious military honors he wants, Antilles--but instead she blinks at him and says, "Pin."
Oh, right.
He extracts it from Ty's mouth before the kid can stab himself. "Sorry, kid. Plenty of time for unfortunate facial piercings in your teenage years."
Miffed, Ty brandishes the medal in one fist and, pointing at Wedge's nose again, repeats, "Dih!"
"Nose," says Wes. She repeats the ritual of pointing out noses: "Ty's nose, Mama's nose, Uncle Commander Sir's nose."
"Bah."
"And bah to you, my son."
Wedge pats the baby's puff of blond hair with his free hand, bounces him a little. "So," he says to Wes, sensing his opening. "Have you thought about what's next? Are you staying back on active duty?"
She and Hobbs must've thought about it. Leading the placeholder Rogues seems to have been mostly flying patrols and looking the part, but it's still active duty, her first stint at it since they went off to the training base and had Ty. Unless--maybe they didn't have much of a choice about coming to Coruscant. Maybe Command wanted Wes where they could see her, while Wedge was off playing warlord. He knows damn well what they all think of her, even Ackbar, who's kinder about it than most.
Wes bites her lip, an expression she picked up from Hobbie somewhere along the way. Whatever she's about to tell him, he's not gonna like it. "About that--"
She doesn't get the chance, because two things happen at once: Ty, with a demanding "Dih!", shoves his finger directly up Wedge's nose, and behind him, an unmistakable voice says, "Hello, Commander Antilles."
Wes goes wide-eyed with hastily suppressed laughter as Wedge immediately, instinctively turns, baby finger in nostril, finds he cannot salute due to said baby held in his right arm, prioritizes shifting the baby over removal of the finger but thankfully dislodges the finger in the process--Ty, displeased, grumbles, "Dah dah dah blah BAH," and begins an exploration of Wedge's other nostril--which Wedge is unable to prevent, because he's in the middle of saluting.
Wes leans over, removes Ty's pudgy hand from Wedge's face, and brings it instead to her son's forehead, puppeting a salute.
"General Cracken, sir," Wedge manages, fully realizing that there's an embarrassed flush starting along his hairline.
Cracken returns the salute, his lip twitching near-imperceptibly before his handsome features settle into a cordial expression. His green eyes, bright and sharp as ever, flick between Wedge, Wes, and Ty. "I hope I'm not interrupting."
What the hell could he possibly want right now?
Somehow in the past couple years Wedge has picked up the vaguest notion of decorum, and good thing, because Wes certainly hasn't--he slants a glance over to her, snickering into her drink and not helping at all, vengeance will be had--so he replies, recovering, "Not at all, sir. I'm not sure if you've met Captain Wes Janson?"
See how you like being on the spot, Janson, so there.
Cracken offers one of his small, disarming smiles, which Wedge trusts about as much as Ty's impulse control. "The name sounds familiar. Were you recently Rogue Leader, by any chance, Captain?"
The huge grin Wes has worn all day somehow, impossibly, widens even further, dimples radiating charm. She's absolutely glowing with delight. It's dreadful.
"You know, sir, I think we might've both attacked the same Death Star. Have you ever gunned for the Millenium Falcon?"
Cracken replies, perfectly straight-faced, "Ah, that's right. We all overthrew a government together, didn't we."
"You might not remember, Wedge, it was a couple governments ago for you," says Wes.
Well, vengeance has backfired. They might as well be giggling at him behind their hands like schoolchildren.
"It was the Poln mission, wasn't it, Captain, the first time we worked together? You were in high spirits, I recall."
Oh no. Oh, Janson. You didn't.
Confirming his sudden horror, Wes says, "Can't blame a girl for trying. Besides, you were only a Colonel back then."
Ty's putting the Kalidor Crescent in his mouth again. Baby Janson, no. Damnit. Multi-task, Antilles, come on.
He pins Wes with a sideways look until she glances over, extricating the medal from Ty's mouth in the meantime, then moves his eyebrows a bare millimeter at her.
She says, "Nose," moving Ty's finger away from Wedge's face again, and scrunches her own nose at Wedge in the most microscopic of scrunches. One day someone's going to break it again and he will offer her no sympathy, the menace.
Who's he kidding. Cracken's old enough to be her father and outranks her by several levels. Of course she did.
"You were very young," says Cracken, with dry amusement, "and I was very married, at the time."
"Ah, well. Worked out for me." She holds up her hand and wiggles her fingers, making her wedding ring sparkle in the light. Not like you can fucking miss it, she's wearing her fancy one and it's crusted with gaudy, sparkling red and orange Corusca gems. Wedge has no idea how Hobbie afforded it and never plans to ask.
"It's an eye-catching ring, Captain."
Wes slinks a glance at Wedge--with a significance he does not understand and does not like--and replies to Cracken, "I'll send you the name of the jeweler."
The shiny object on his mother's hand is too great a temptation for Ty. He makes a grab for it with a loud "Bah!" and nearly topples himself out of Wedge's arms in the undertaking.
"Whoa," says Wedge, catching him. He taps the Kalidor Crescent in Ty's hand, informing him, "You've already got a shiny, Ty-Ty."
Cracken lets out a little smile, and says, "I'm afraid I'm not acquainted with this young man." Perhaps wondering why Wedge is holding a baby, or why the baby is holding a medal. "I hope that isn't stolen valor."
He's--making jokes? About the baby? Why is he even talking to them. Did he come over here to spy on Ty, for some insane reason? The fuck?
"Say, Wedge," says Wes, "where was it you got the kid, again?"
He's going to break her nose himself, see if he doesn't.
He forces himself to look Cracken in the face, and can't even fully appreciate the man's puzzled expression, because he's too busy plotting to murder Wes.
"She's kidding, sir, this is her son. Hers and Hobbie's."
Remember Hobbie, Janson? Your husband that you're a lunatic for? Go flirt with him instead of Airen fucking Cracken, maybe.
"I've never seen him before in my life," Wes says promptly.
"Dih," says Ty, pointing.
"Nose," all three adults say at once.
"No!" he says, and throws the Kalidor Crescent directly at Cracken. It hits the general square in the face, and bounces to the floor.
"Well," Wedge says, unable to stop himself, "he has your aim, Wes."
Wes announces, "I'm gonna go bother Tycho," tosses out a horrible salute towards Cracken, and flees.
"You forgot something!" Wedge calls after her, still holding Ty.
She doesn't even turn. "Find me if he pukes!"
Someday he's going to travel back in time to Yavin IV and make his younger self request a transfer to Renegade flight. The past several years surely would have held fewer headaches if he'd transferred to Renegade flight.
"Apologies, General." He adjusts his grip on Ty and crouches down to pick up the medal. He makes the mistake of glancing at Cracken as he does so and has the disorienting experience of looking up at Cracken's blank stare. He straightens abruptly and clears his throat, so flustered that he gives the medal back to Ty rather than pinning it back on.
It takes Cracken a moment to formulate a response, which seems fair given how ridiculous this whole interaction has been. "I'm not so unreasonable as to expect an apology for the behavior of a baby, Commander. I did raise two myself."
"Apologies for his mother, I mean. Okay, okay, kiddo, copy that." Ty's now squirming, wanting to be put down, and there's not much point in fighting it. Wedge puts him down and he immediately bumps into a nearby chair, falls, recovers, and toddles off in a different direction, leaving the adults no choice but to follow a step behind.
"Also unnecessary. Anyone who expects apologies for the behavior of Captain Janson clearly has never heard of her. Oh, careful, sprout." He redirects Ty out of the path of a droid laden with a tray, narrowly averting a collision, then seamlessly resumes his train of thought, "Besides, I've always found her rather charming."
What does that mean.
"Do you," Wedge challenges. The coldness of his tone is somewhat undermined when he has to hastily stop Ty before he crawls under a table.
Cracken blinks at him, and Wedge can almost--but not quite--believe it's an involuntary reaction. "I mean no offense," he says. "I know she's very dear to you."
That means, people think Wedge is fucking her. Those rumors have been swirling around Starfighter Command for the better part of a decade, just won't fucking die, not even when she got married or when they spent two years mostly on opposite sides of the galaxy.
He resolves to make an exit from this conversation before he loses his temper, and, well, he's certainly not going to comment on the subject of him and Wes. "I should get Ty back to his parents," he says, scooping him up mid-toddle. "Was there anything else you wanted, sir?"
The expression on Cracken's face is completely opaque. "No, nothing else. Only to congratulate you on your return. I'll let you enjoy the time with your people."
To Wedge's surprise, he turns his attention to Ty instead of immediately walking away. "It was an honor to meet you, Ty," he says, with that particular solemnity of someone using adult speech with a baby. "I daresay Captain Celchu couldn't ask for a finer namesake."
"Ah dih," Ty says, bobbing his silly blond baby head. He waves the hand still clutching Wedge's Kalidor Crescent.
"Ah," Cracken says. He slants another look at Wedge, and takes the medal from Ty, perhaps to prevent him from throwing it again. "I think that's Uncle Wedge's, isn't it?"
Perhaps it's the absurdity of hearing the name Uncle Wedge come out of Cracken's mouth, perhaps it's just disbelief at this entire conversation from start to finish. Whatever the reason, he finds himself completely frozen in place as Cracken takes a step closer, and carefully pins the medal back in place on Wedge's lapel.
Uhm.
He adjusts the fold of the jacket, just so, as Wedge stares at him, bewildered.
"Welcome home, Commander Antilles," he says, and takes his leave, before Wedge can even shake himself back to reality to salute.
To make matters worse, he turns to look anywhere but the direction Cracken left in, and finds that Hobbie, Tycho, and Gavin are all staring openly at him, a few meters away. With them is Wes, notably not staring, because she's too busy laughing her ass off, doubled over and wheezing.
"What just happened," he asks Ty.
"Ah bwah," says Ty, most reasonably.
Right. Of course.
no subject
Date: 2025-10-02 10:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-10-02 10:55 pm (UTC)Cracken is so very interesting here. He seems like he's merely having some small talk but I'm also suspicious. But Wedge, you deranged and anxious darling. I doubt he's going to spy on a baby. Even one from Wes and Hobbie.
I love love love the way they're working on reinforcing the word nose. Excellent work.
no subject
Date: 2025-10-03 04:36 am (UTC)Wedge and Cracken will figure their thing out - or rather, Wedge will; Cracken figured it out ages back because he's clever like that. Wedge's cleverness goes into small unit tactical genius,not being flirted with by spooks.
no subject
Date: 2025-10-03 08:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-10-04 08:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-10-04 09:08 pm (UTC)Poor Wedge thinks he's in a spy thriller and Cracken thinks he's in a rom com, lol. I really should try to write Cracken's POV of this as a thought exercise because my guy how did you think Wedge would interpret this conversation? I know it's hard to resist the possibility that you'd be allowed to say hi to the baby but come on.
no subject
Date: 2025-10-04 09:16 pm (UTC)Cracken has figured out his own interest but I'm not sure that he realizes Wedge has *no idea* what's going on, which is hilarious to me because Cracken is usually so on the ball. Except when he's got a crush on Wedge apparently.
no subject
Date: 2025-10-04 09:22 pm (UTC)