Back in the bunker, he and big Caiti ripped open the boxes.
Zane sighed with relief at the first item on the top of the first box. Diapers, thank God. The brand name was unfamiliar, but the happy, half-naked baby on the front of the package could be advertising nothing else. He lifted the package out.
Underneath it, score. A top-of-the-line laptop. He pulled it out and flipped it open, admiring its sleek lines.
"What's that?" Caiti asked, sounding fascinated.
"It's a computer," Zane answered, digging deeper to find the power cord.
"No, it's not," Caiti protested.
Zane sat back on his heels. "Let me guess. Yours don't have keyboards?"
"Not like that." Caiti stroked her fingers across the surface of the machine. "That's weird."
Zane grinned. He wondered if Caiti had ever ridden in a real car, or changed the channel on a television, or turned a light on with a switch. "Do you ever adjust the water temperature in your shower?"
"What?" She tapped the keys, but the screen didn't respond, since the computer wasn't on. "Why?"
"Oh, you know, to make the water hotter or colder."
"That's silly, Daddy. Why would I do that? The water always feels good."
Zane shook his head, his smile rueful, but didn't answer. The laptop must be from 2011. It made sense: bringing technology back from the future with him might be dangerous. This way, Caiti could show him her subroutines for hiding information from S.A.R.A.H.. He'd write the code that would let S.A.R.A.H. steer Eureka's history for the next twenty-two years or so, and then he'd be able to use this computer to modify S.A.R.A.H.'s 2011 system.
"My box is just food and sleeping bags and clothes," Caiti said, sounding disappointed.
"All useful stuff," Zane said, as he dug deeper into his box, finding a boxed set of Candyland, a deck of cards, crayons, miscellaneous other small toys, and, at the very bottom, a sealed envelope addressed to Sergeant Joseph Lupo, to be delivered in June, 1984.
He tapped the envelope against his hand. How the hell was he going to manage this? He'd prepared, obviously: the letter would contain all the relevant information. But how would he get it to Jo's dad? Forty years into the future left so much time for it to get lost, damaged, destroyed.
He'd need to find an ally. Someone in the past. Someone who'd stay in the past, would live through time in the usual way. He pulled out a piece of paper that had been under the envelope and unfolded it. He snorted as his eyes skimmed down the list of stocks.
Good job, him.
"What's that, Daddy?" Caiti asked.
"Nothing important," he said, folding the list up again. He had his bribe, he had his task, now he just needed to find the lucky winner. He wondered whether it really mattered. Had his future self's tweak of the timeline truly been the essential ingredient to their family's future? But, hell, it couldn't be that hard to make it work. And why screw around?
Underneath the list, a pill bottle had fallen to the bottom of the box. He picked it up, wondering. The prescription label read, "Flunitrazepam, Schedule IV." He frowned down at it. He didn't know much about drugs and he'd never heard of this one, but he slipped the pill bottle into his pocket with the letter and the list. He wouldn't have included it in his supplies list if he wasn't going to need it. He hoped none of the kids were going to get sick on their little journey.
"All right, let's go change your diaper," he said to Caiti, still worrying about the pills.
"Ew," she answered. But she scooped up the laptop, holding it tucked into her tiny arms like a treasure, and obediently followed him into the other room.
While he called little Caiti over to get her diaper changed, big Caiti examined the computer. "Why doesn't it work?" she asked with frustration. "It doesn't do anything."
"You need to plug it in," Zane told her, glancing around for a power outlet as he tugged at the knots they'd tied in the makeshift diaper they'd made out of a t-shirt. The bunker had lights and air circulation, so there had to be a power source somewhere, maybe a generator.
"I need to do what?" she asked.
"Plug it in," he repeated. "It needs power."
"What's wrong with its battery?" She sounded confused. She turned the laptop over, exploring its outlets and crevices.
"The battery needs to be charged." Zane frowned down at the fresh diaper. Admittedly, he'd never changed a diaper before, but weren't they supposed to have tape on the edges? And be sort of fat and fluffy? He'd seen commercials. This diaper was more like a neatly folded thick piece of cotton fabric, colorfully printed with pictures of butterflies and bees, but it didn't seem to have the appropriate openings. He ran the tips of his fingers over the pattern, recognizing it as a smooth plastic.
Little Caiti kicked her feet at him from her prone position on the floor. "Now, Dada," she ordered.
"Charged with what?" Caiti set the laptop down on the floor and stared at it. "This doesn't work right. It's broken."
"It just needs some juice," Zane answered. He leaned back. "Tell you what, come here and help me with the diaper and I'll get the computer working."
"Put it on, mini-me," Big Caiti ordered.
With a raised eyebrow, Zane proffered the diaper to the toddler, but she looked as surprised as he was.
"Not gonna happen," Zane told big Caiti as little Caiti stuck her thumb into her mouth, eyes wide.
Big Caiti heaved a sigh and joined them. "Up," she told her littler self. Little Caiti scrambled to her feet. Big Caiti took the diaper and tapped one of the butterflies, then unfolded the fabric. She tucked it around the toddler, tapped a bee, and stepped away. The pattern on the front lit up, colors dancing wildly for a second or two.
Zane recoiled. "What is that?" he asked, as the colors settled into a steady pattern of green and blue.
"Good," pronounced little Caiti. She yawned and rubbed her eyes.
"A diaper?" big Caiti asked suspiciously, as if he was teasing her.
"What are the colors for?"
She shrugged. "To say when it's time to change or if I get sick, I think? Mommy's phone used to tell her when I had a fever."
Zane wasn't sure whether that was ridiculous or inspired. He leaned toward ridiculous. On the other hand, he'd never taken care of a baby. Maybe it was reassuring?
"Computer now, Dada."
He sent Caiti back into the other room for the power cord and the crayons and found a power outlet. When she came back, he set up the computer and the two of them sat cross-legged on the floor in front of it as it booted up.
"I tiyed, Dada. Mick, yow." Little Caiti leaned against his arm.
He glanced at big Caiti.
"Milk, now" she translated for him, her eyes intent on the screen. "This is so shiny."
Milk. Huh.
"In the big box," she told him, delicately tugging the laptop closer to her. "I'll just…" her voice trailed off as her fingers began skipping across the keys.
With a resigned grin, Zane stood. Little Caiti clung to his leg so he scooped her up and carried her into the other room. He suspected that it might be getting close to her bedtime. He'd get her some milk, then set up one of the sleeping bags to serve as a bed for her. Should he brush her teeth? Find her some clothes to sleep in?
The milk was easy to find. He was impressed by the packaging. He had no idea what it was or how it worked, but as he unpeeled what seemed like simple plastic wrap from a baby bottle, he could tell that the milk was cool. When he opened it and sniffed, it smelled fresh and fine.
He handed the bottle to little Caiti and she took it, but she didn't drink, just looked disconsolately about the room. "I bant my tair," she told him plaintively.
"Your tair?" he asked her.
"I bant to dit in you yap, dada, and yock. Dat is de bet way to seep."
Zane looked down at the tiny girl. He didn't think babies were supposed to talk like that. Not that he understood every word—he hadn't. But he was fairly sure that babies didn't talk in sentences. And that his baby girl had just expressed a strong preference for being rocked to sleep in his arms.
"How about we spread out a sleeping bag and you sit in my lap there?" he asked her gently.
Her lower lip quivered, but, "O-tay," she said valiantly.
"Tell me about the chair," he said to her as he opened the sleeping bag. He sat down on it, cross-legged, and she crawled into his lap, still clutching her bottle of milk.
"It da big tair," she said, leaning into him. "I yike it." She plunked the bottle into her mouth and nestled into him. Zane wanted to hold his breath. What a weird fucking feeling. She was so little, but so solid. So warm and yet so fragile. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her steady forever.
Her eyelashes dropped down onto her cheeks. Lupo's cheeks. She had his eyes, but Lupo's skin, Lupo's bones. The bottle slipped out of her mouth, her small, perfect lips opening and closing like a goldfish, until she settled on slightly open and sound asleep.
Zane looked down at her. So perfect. So beautiful. So unimaginably amazing.
Holy fuck.
Had his future self worked out some way to send the children back in time on purpose? It would be just like him. Evil, calculating, manipulative… and so right.
Gently, very, very gently, he laid his baby down on the sleeping bag.
He knew now that his future self was right. Memory wipe? Whatever. He would do anything for his children, anything at all.
And then he froze.
What the hell?
From the other room came the sounds of men yelling and Caiti yelping.
A/N: Thank you so much, darling reviewers. You keep me writing. I hope you're liking this Zane! In the very near future, he'll get to go back to being asshole Zane of Season 4.5. That's gonna be fun to write!