Pickles had the money to take Toki anywhere he wanted, and the first place he thought of? Spain. Telling him about the beaches and the food there had been a mistake.

Well, the first actual place he thought of had been Candy Mountain.

"It's more fucking British than...well, Britain!"

He dragged the bags into their bedroom and groaned. "Those fuckin' asses shoulda let us stay fer nuthin'! I'm Pickles the Goddamn Drummer."

Toki looked around. "This musts have costs a bomb..."

"We've gat money ta burn."

"And you couldn'ts spends so much for your husband, could you?" Toki giggled lovingly, grabbing Pickles and cuddling him from behind. "Loves you."

Lying on the beach, with dreadlocks sticking to his head and sand in places he didn't enjoy, Pickles was sure he was burning to death. Next to him, Toki looked relaxed, tanning nicely, unlike the pale drummer. He didn't even understand how a Norwegian could tan so easily when he was from Wisconsin, and was whiter than a ghost.

"Toki, it's too fuckin' haht here," he moaned. "Why didn't ya wanna go to Norway?"

"I knows what you woulds have said if we wents there."

"What?"

Toki sat up and chuckled, attempting the best Yooper dialect he could. "'Toki, it's too fucking cold here. Why didn't ya wannas go to Spains?"

Pickles muttered something under his breath.

The early Spanish mornings were Pickles' time to relax. He was often up early, but this morning, he chose to simply lie in bed and watch the sun rise through the curtains. To amuse himself for the time being, he'd been teaching himself Spanish while Toki marvelled at the sights and tried all kinds of foreign foods. Pickles swore he'd never eat tapas again.

Turning away to sit on the side, he stretched, and then felt a light thud on his back. Twisted his head to see Toki kneeling there, holding a pillow. "Pillow fights, mi amor?"

"Seguir adelante, pruébame!" Pickles retorted, laughing as he grabbed his pillow and began to wallop Toki with it. The two musicians laughed together as they fought their early morning battle, not caring how thin the walls were and that they had woken up their entire hallway.

Pickles had never been more surprised when Toki told him that he'd always wanted children. Now, that fact itself didn't surprise the drummer, but when he'd been told to think about it, he had cocked his eyebrows back in surprise and his mouth hung agape. Physically, it was impossible. Mentally...Pickles wasn't sure.

"Toki, yer a moron. Wait till we gat home first, yeah? Then we'll talk about yer kiddy business."

"I's sorries..."

The redhead felt guilty, and it was Toki's turn to be surprised when Pickles whispered in his ear that he wanted children, too.

Once they returned to Mordhaus, Toki slept for most of the day. Pickles was wide awake and he had no clue what to think. Toki wants kids. Toki wants kids. Goddamnit, am I ready for a fucking family? As much as Dethklok was family, they weren't people he could watch as they grew up from babyhood. He kept it to himself, but Pickles had always wanted to see that.

Toki woke up just after dinner time, and he ate his in the living room with the other band members. Pickles was relaxing in the hot tub with Nathan, Tequila Sunrise in hand, when the rhythm guitarist spoke.

"Pickle, let's adopt."

Nathan spat out his drink.