Jango closed his eyes. Bounty hunters didn't get headaches/ Fathers did. Fathers with hyperactive five year olds always had a headache, apparently.
"Dad! Can we go outside now?" A cabin feverish Boba bounded up to him.
"Has it stopped storming?" Jango asked with his last shred of patience.
Boba stuck out his lower lip as lightning lit up the window. "No."
"Then no," Jango said firmly.
Boba rocked on his feet. "Then I'm bored."
Jango sighed.
Boba persisted. "Really bored, Dad!"
"Alright!" Jango snapped, putting a hand to his forehead. "I'll put on a holo for you." Boba cheered a little.
Jango blindly reached out and shoved a holo in, wincing. "Now be quiet. I'll be right back." He left Boba watching the holo and went into the refresher. He took some pain reliever. You're getting old. He could hear Zam mocking him. Boba was awfully quiet in the other room. Jango assumed that was a good thing. He wandered back into
his room.
The boy was staring at the holo playing, transfixed. Jango cried out. He was watching an adult holo. Yes, a very adult holo. The kind Jango would watch on lonely nights. The secret guilty pleasure kind.
Jango dashed forward and slapped a hand across his son's eyes, protecting his innocence... or what little was left. "Let's... watch something different," he suggested, shutting the holo off. "Ah, what else do we have?" He browsed their collection. Boba was too young to watch most of them, and he was too old for the potty training one. The only thing really appropriate was... Singing in the Rain. Blast it. It was either the adult movie or that horrible musical that drove Jango nuts. Be a good parent, now, Zam would gently remind him with a smirk. "This one looks good." Jango selected Singing in the Rain and played it.
Boba was smiling by the first music number. Jango groaned unhappily. What had he done to his son? He was ruining his manliness. "We'll go outside later," he grumbled, stalking out of the room. He collapsed on his sleepcouch.
ooooo
"Dad," Boba hissed in Jango's ear.
"What?" Jango grumbled, half asleep.
"The holovid's over. Let's go outside."
Jango grit his teeth. "Let's go."
Boba let out a whoop and bounded away. Jango followed more slowly. Once both of their rain ponchos were secure they set off down their hallway and out into the pouring rain.
Boba was euphoric at the taste of freedom, even though it was soaking wet. He splashed in puddles and slid on slippery duracreet, laughing and smiling all the way. Jango had to smile back as he watched him have a good time. He couldn't help being happy because Boba showed no indication of liking Singing in the Rain. He had the potential to be a great bounty hunter someday. Jango was already so proud of him.
That is, until young Boba twirled around on a lightpost, arms stretched out, proclaiming, "I'm singing in the rain!"