Page 41 of Oddly Fine

“Can I still have pancakes in the morning?” Nathan asked, and those ridiculously long eyelashes were working overtime again.

Beckett chuckled and nodded. “With sprinkles and everything. Night, Nathan!”

Seeing a nightlight plugged into the wall near the door, he switched it on and a soft blue light illuminated the room. Beckett flipped off the overhead light, and immediately noticed a constellation of stars glowing on the ceiling.

“Night,” Nathan replied, setting his glasses on the nightstand with a loud sigh of contentment.

With that, Beckett left the room and headed back downstairs.

“Everything alright?” Hayes asked as Beckett turned the corner of the living room.

Beckett stopped abruptly, rendered temporarily speechless as he took in the tableau before him. While not entirely sure about what he was looking at, he was dead certain, however, that this needed to be recorded for posterity. He reached for his phone in his back pocket and snapped a few dozen pictures while Hayes frowned menacingly. Good thing their guns were locked in Gill’s safe.

“I thought you were only doing nails,” Beckett commented mildly.

“Doesn’t he look pretty?” Lilac asked, as she continued to generously apply makeup—holy hell, was that blush?—to Hayes’ cheeks.

“I mean—he’s—” Beckett was at a loss to describe the impressive makeover job.

Hayes growled low in his throat and stared coldly at his partner.

Lilac had not only painted Hayes’ nails an alarmingly bright shade of purple—she’d also applied—although that might be too generous a verb—matching eyeshadow to his eyelids and all the way up to his thick black brows. She’d also applied ruby red lipstick that matched the blush she was so very generously dusting over his cheeks. Add in the poodle still curled in his lap, and Hayes presented quite the tableau.

“Nancy—you’ve never looked better,” Beckett cooed, choking back laughter. He was fairly bursting from holding back his guffaws, but he really didn’t want to hurt Lilac’s feelings.

“You’re next,” Hayes assured him, his gaze pointed and glinting dangerously.

“I don’t wear makeup,” Beckett replied quickly, shaking his head and holding up both hands defensively.

“Why not?” Jameson asked from the couch. He looked perfectly relaxed and content now that he had the couch all to himself.

“Because I’m a boy,” Beckett stated emphatically.

“Boys can wear makeup,” Lilac retorted confidently, and yeah, Beckett supposed he’d walked right into that one.

“Sure they can, but this one doesn’t,” he said, pointing at himself.

“Daddy says boys who are afraid to wear makeup have fragile maniculativity,” Lilac argued. Her artwork completed, she turned towards Beckett with arms crossed defiantly, mimicking Nathan’s earlier stance on the couch.

“Masculinity, stupid!” Jameson corrected with an ease born of arrogance and a great deal of practice.

Lilac threw one of her bottles of nail polish at him before either Hayes or Beckett could scold Jameson for his ugly insult.

“Here we go again,” Beckett muttered, smacking his forehead with his palm when the kids started screaming insults back and forth at the tops of their lungs.

“I’ll take the girl,” Hayes said, with a deep sigh of resignation, as he lifted the dog off his lap and stood up, face still slathered with a shit ton of makeup.

“I’ll take the smartass,” Beckett replied, nodding towards Jameson who was yelling right back at his sister, holding her blue nail polish hostage. He hadn’t gotten hit by the small bottle—thankfully—but he was acting as if she’d thrown a grenade at him. Beckett was reluctantly impressed by Jameson’s over-the-top behavior even while he was scooping him up in a fireman’s carry to drag his screaming ass up the stairs.

It took about 30 minutes to get Lilac and Jameson calmed down enough to put them to bed. As soon as they were separated, they were relatively easy to deal with. When Beckett and Hayes returned to the living room, Hayes collapsed in exhaustion onto the couch, dropped his head back, and closed his eyes.

“How do parents do this all the time?” he mused.

“It’s like a pyramid scheme—once you’re in, you ain’t getting out—” Beckett said, shaking his head. He sat down on the couch next to Hayes and leaned back against the right arm rest. He plopped his feet in Hayes’ lap and yawned so widely his jaw popped. `

“No kids,” Beckett stated emphatically, pointing at his partner. “I’ll get a fucking dog if you really want one, but no kids.”

Hayes snorted and shook his head back and forth a few times. “You’re telling me!” Then he looked over at Beckett, wearing an odd little smile that told Beckett he was having some seriously naughty thoughts.