Nick was a handsome little devil in his new camouflage outfit, and he knew it. He was particularly aware of Chloe's crush on him, and refused to stop being coy when people explained to him he was insane.

"She likes me," he said smugly, crossing his little arms. Young put a hand over his face.

"Nick, she's twenty-four -"

"I know," Nick interrupted, still wearing a triumphant grin. "But she likes me. I always knew girls would like me when I got into clothes that fit - not that I like girls."

Young raised an eyebrow.

"Nick," he said, "do you have a crush on Chloe?"

Nick looked instantly offended. "No!" he cried. "She's gross!"

A smile quirked at Young's lips. "Right."

"All girls are gross," said Nick staunchly. His features softened for a moment and he conceded, "Except Lisa."

"Lisa?" Young asked. "Lisa Park?"

"Uh-huh."

"She's not gross?"

Looking at the floor, Nick shrugged. Young tried not to grin - Park would go ballistic at the news.

"Right," he said. "Well, it's getting pretty late, kiddo. You wanna head to bed?"

"No."

"Let's get you to bed."

There was something singularly awful about tucking Nick into bed in Rush's quarters. It wasn't like Rush's quarters were dangerous - no, they were just as secure as the rest of the ship, and significantly more so than many areas. It was just that … well, there weren't many reasons for Young to stay. Not good reasons.

"You'll be OK?" he checked again, hovering in the doorway. Nick nodded. "You don't need a nightlight, or - or a stuffed animal?"

Nick made a face at him, signifying utter disdain.

"I can tell you a story," Young offered. There was a pause; Nick considered the option.

"OK," he said eventually. "I never got a story at bed before."

Young tried not to look too pleased with himself as he pulled up a chair.

"Once upon a time," he said, casting his eyes around the room for inspiration, "there was a … lamp."

He hesitated.

"A … magic lamp?" Nick prompted. Young nodded hurriedly.

"Yes, a magic lamp. In the Air Force. And his name was …"

…

…

"Rumpelstiltskin," Nick offered. Young gaped.

"Pumpkin-skin, yeah," he said. "And Pumpkin-skin wanted -"

"Rumpelstiltskin," Nick corrected.

"What?"

"It's Rumpelstiltskin. Not Pumpkin-skin."

"How do you know?"

"I saw it in a play."

Young pursed his lips. "Well, this is Pumpkin-skin," he said. "Rumpelstiltskin's sister."

Nick looked at him strangely. "I thought it was a lamp," he pointed out. "Lamps don't have brothers and sisters."

"Well, magic lamps do. Now do you want the story or not?"

"I'm not sure anymore."

Young scowled at him. Nick stuck his tongue out.

"Are you tired yet?" the colonel barked. Nick shrugged. "Well, get tired. The magic lamp named Pumpkin-skin wanted to prove that he was -"

"She."

Young's eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"Pumpkin-skin's a she."

"No, he's not!"

"Yes, she is! You just said! She's Rumpelstiltskin's sister!"

With a stifled sigh, Young put his head in his hands.

"OK, fine," he bit out. "Pumpkin-skin wanted to prove that SHE was braver than all the men."

He trailed off, well aware that Nick was waiting for more. It had occurred to Young that most little boys didn't want to hear butchered tales about feminist lamps, especially when said feminist lamp was just a clumsy metaphor for Mulan.

"Pumpkin-skin had a dragon," Young started again. He paused, waiting for a response.

"That's OK," said Nick gently before he could go on. "I don't really need a bedtime story."

Young took a deep breath to steady himself. "Well, you're getting one," he hissed. Nick's eyes were wide.

"… OK."

"OK?"

"OK."

"Good. Pumpkin-skin's dragon was named … Greg. And Greg had a problem. He had hemorrhoids."

Nick gave him a blank look. Young realized he had a chance to thoroughly mess up Rush.

"Hemorrhoids are like zombies on your butt," he explained. "They eat through your skin and make you bleed, trying to get inside you."

Wide-eyed and pale, Nick brought the blankets closer to his chin. "Cool," he breathed.

Satisfied at finally saying something acceptable, Young went into a long tale detailing Pumpkin-skin's fight against his dragon's hemorrhoids, which were British at Nick's request. He was halfway through Pumpkin-skin 2: Attack of the Paperwork Bats when he realized Nick had dropped off.

The boy was snuggled up against the pillow, holding it something like a teddy bear, and drooling. Young suspected that if HE were the pillow, he might not find that so cute.

It was really, really hard for him to dim the lights and sneak away.

Later in the night, in his own quarters, Young was awakened briefly by the sound of his door sliding open. He shifted sleepily, not looking up. He could hear the light tapping of feet against the deck plating, and then the bed dipped slightly as someone got in with him.

Before he fell asleep again, he felt the small figure of a six-year-old boy curling up against him. Nick's head nuzzled against his neck, getting more comfortable.

"Couldn't sleep?" Young mumbled. He felt Nick shake his head and snuggled closer.

Young closed his eyes and fell asleep.