sluttylyingliar | For Danny

For Danny - Decorating

"So..." Rachel breathes, looking around the empty room, fingers kneading her lower back. "Raylan says he'll make a crib. He pretty much isn't into decorating the place. He refuses to discuss what kind of things he'd have liked as a kid and my baby basically has nothing. Help me."

The room is small, bright and clean but completely goddamn empty other than a box full of baby clothes and diapers shoved into a corner.

She turns to watch Danny, grimacing a little at the thought that their kid doesn't even have furniture. Jesus, they are not natural at this. Not even a little. She doesn't even know what else a kid needs. This kid is going to be here in less than two months and she's pretty sure if Danny wasn't around, well. They'd figure it out. But it wouldn't be pretty.

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Danny's busy with the corner of the room, staring at it with a wary look on his face. The truth is, he's not exactly sure what to say about the place. He could be honest, but he's not sure Rachel's going to like honest. "Your baby is going to be one of those sad bubble kids," he says, gesturing to the room. "He's gonna grow up with nothing around him but air and space."

"Danny, goddamit!" Rachel huffs, stomping her foot ineffectually. "I know that, that is why I brought you here, okay? Raylan is not being any help and I need you to help me because he's too fucking traumatized or whatever to get this done."

Danny laughs, trying not to sound so careless or mean with it, but he can't help it. He pushes himself off his ass and rubs a hand over her back. "Hey, it's okay. We're just gonna need to find some furniture or commission it, that's all. We can do that, easy."

"It's not funny," she mutters, leaning against him. "Aren't nurseries supposed to be decorated or like, warm and inviting or whatever? It's an empty room. It's an empty room with a hypothetical crib. I'm already fucking awful at this."

"They need a crib and a changing table, a mobile, a bookshelf, probably a rocking chair," he lists off against his finger as he talks. "Babe, they need all kinds of things, but the truth is, you've got some time and there's lots of skilled labor for this kind of thing. You want me to help slap on a coat of paint?"

"I just want it to look nice," she says, leaning her head against his broad shoulder. "I thought it'd be nice to do like, animals or baseball or fucking cowboys but it's radio silence from him and I don't know where to start."

"Well, painting," Danny says. "We can find somebody artistic and maybe they can do some decals on the wall?" he suggests. "But, the first thing you need is a good coat of paint on the walls before you start with the furniture. And you should look into a baby monitor."

"You think they've got baby monitors around here?" she asks, awkwardly trying to bend over to grab the box of stuff. If it hadn't been for the weird winter present thing, they wouldn't even have that.

"I got some clothes and diapers after New Years. Of course, I don't know to put them on."

"There's all kinds of geniuses around, babe," Danny points out. "I'm pretty sure if you ask nicely enough, one of them will be able to figure out how to rig a baby monitor for you," he points out. "And Rachel, come on, this is stuff I can teach you. Hell, find a small dog."

"You want me to diaper a dog?" she snorts, holding up an impossibly tiny, yellow onesie with little ducks. "I want something like this. I want bright and nice and cute and something where this kid's going to know his parents gave enough of a shit to put it together. What did you have for Grace?"

"What, with the outfit?" Danny asks, leaning his shoulder against the wall as he looks at Rachel. "I don't know, Rach picked that stuff out. I showed up for the birth and coached her through it, she picked the cute little onesie that Grace wore out of the hospital."

"What about her nursery, huh?" she prods, handing over the onesie. "Did you help with all of that stuff? Did you know this stuff before Grace was born?"

Danny's been wanting to make her feel better, but she's right. He did have most of this done. "You have to remember, I was eager. I was a kid, babe, I was twenty-four and my new wife was pregnant. I did everything within the first three months. But, I'm thirty-five now and it'd definitely take me longer to get everything together."

"Because you move so much more slowly," she agrees with an exaggerated nod. "Alright, listen. I've got a big cantaloupe in the other room. Wanna show me how to diaper a cantaloupe?"

"...your baby better not be that fat, but sure," Danny agrees easily, shaking his head as he gives Rachel a look of disbelief. "Lead the way to your erstwhile cantaloupe progeny."

"Unless you want to diaper one of Raylan's whiskey bottles, all I've got is a cantaloupe," she huffs, leading him to their tiny kitchen-like area. By kitchen, she means the table where the booze is kept.

She hands over the teensy diaper and steps back, waiting for the magic to happen.

"I could've borrowed a doll from the children's office," he points out, considering he's there pretty much eighty-percent of his life, lately. "But, hey, this'll be good," he says, taking the cantaloupe into one arm (tucked into his body) and the diaper with the other, finding a flat surface so he can go through the motions like clockwork, finishing swiftly and under a minute.

Rachel just stares for a long moment and looks at Danny, back at the diaper and then back up. "Are you shitting me?" she asks flatly. "Go slow, doofus. I don't even know what just happened."

Danny rolls his eyes, but undoes the diaper and turns so that she can see his every move. "Okay, okay, just for you, I'll move like I'm in slow motion," he promises, proceeding to do exactly that as he re-diapers the round object before him.

"Ugh, Christ, okay," she huffs as she undoes the diaper and awkwardly attempts to do the same. "How do you keep the baby from rolling off the table?" she asks, stepping back and frowning as it doesn't look...quite right.

"Well, my daughter wasn't a cantaloupe," he retorts, rolling his eyes as he steps back to watch how Rachel is doing. "One light hand of pressure on the stomach if the baby starts to squirm too much."

"Okay, okay," she breathes, trying again and getting something, well, closer at least to correct. Jesus Christ. She's going to have a baby. For the rest of her life. In less than two months. She can feel herself start to well up and freak out for no goddamn reason at all. Fucking baby and fucking hormones.

"Jesus," she says, fixing watery eyes on Danny's incredulous face. "Danny I'm going to be a mom. I'm really scared."

"Eight months pregnant, roughly, and you're only just figuring that out now?" Danny points out in disbelief, shooting Rachel a fond smile. "Sweetheart, babe," he lays it on thick, wanting her to smile. "You've got Raylan, you've got me, and you've got a whole village to support you."

"It's not funny!" she says, voice reaching dangerously hitch pitches. "I just...I don't know. I don't know. It's been all the about getting ready and getting used to it but now it's here and there's going to be a baby and I've got to be a mom and be good and not curse and get drunk and what if you all disappear?"

"Rachel!" Danny shouts, trying to get her attention. At this point, he feels like he has to go for pure-volume over actual logic, since he doesn't think they're getting back around to that anytime soon. "You learn. Okay? You learn through experience."

"I need to sit down," she says, flailing around as she tries to clamp down on the sudden panic. She can feel her face getting hot and breath short. It happens more often now that there's a damn baby squishing her insides. "I need a plan, okay. We need a defined, plan. A list."

Danny eases her to the closest chair, rubbing her back in constant circles. "Rachel, you don't need a plan. You have a plan. You know where you want to give birth, right? The doctor who's going to do it?" This is just step one kind of stuff. Like he said before, the rest sort of just tends to fall into place.

"It was Paul," she says, dropping her face down into her hands. "Now it's Dr. Chase, if he's still around next month. I know, I know I'm being ridiculous but I am freaking out and Raylan is so calm about everything and it's making me feel crazier."

"Hey, you know me. Steve pulls the same shit, right before he does something tragically insane," Danny points out, knowing that their situations often can be 'two peas in a pod-esque'. "You got friends, though, and you'll be good at it."

"I really, really don't think I'm going to be good at it," she says in a low voice. "But I know you're not going to let me really fuck it up, Danny. I do. And I'm thankful for it. I'm just...I'm overwhelmed."

"Babe," Danny chides softly, not doing it angrily, but because he just wants to get her attention. "You have to understand that you're going to have help. Okay? You're not in this alone. There's no way we'd let you do this alone."

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For Danny - Decorating

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