"Alright, Mac, you want a haircut?" Billy asked the next day as they were finishing lunch.
Machiavelli brightened. "Yes." He ran his fingers through his unruly curls. His hair had never in his life been as long as it was now. Although the weekly transformations stunted his hair from growing too long, at the moment, his hair was uncomfortably touching the back of his neck. "Are you going to get one too?"
"Why?" Billy asked doubling back. "You think I need one?"
Machiavelli nodded vigorously. "What do you think Scatty?" he called to the Shadow. "Does he need one?"
Scatty looked up from the knife she was sharpening. She glanced over at the American outlaw. "I think he needs two." Machiavelli giggled in appreciation and high-fived the warrior. She grinned up at Billy. "It's not going to kill you."
The Italian opened his eyes as wide as he could. "Please, Billy. For me?"
"Fine," Billy sighed. "Is anybody else coming?" Scatty didn't bother to answer him, already busy cleaning her tools again. Neither of the Flamels wanted to go either, so the American shrugged and pulled Machiavelli out behind him.
The Italian skipped behind him, then realized that he must not look very dignified and slowed to a walk. "What are we doing tonight?" he asked as he climbed into the passenger seat of the Thunderbird. "Something fun?"
Billy waited until Machiavelli had buckled in before he let his foot off of the brake. "We can do anything you want, sweets." He flashed a smile at the Italian. Machiavelli felt his insides melt a touch. The outlaw turned the long car onto the main road. "What kind of thing were you thinking of?" Billy asked, tapping out a rhythm on his steering wheel.
"I don't know," Machiavelli admitted. He trailed his fingers out the window and wondered idly if he could touch the trees on the side of the road. They looked close enough. He leaned out the window experimentally. Billy groaned and pulled him back in. "Sorry. Sometimes I get carried away." He turned to watch the American instead, turning the golden pendant over and over in his hands. "Maybe we could have a movie night."
"Sure," Billy agreed. "We could get a brownie mix from the store and make some if you want." He lapsed again into silence. "Are you sure I have to get a haircut?" he asked as they arrived on Main Street.
"I think you look much handsomer when you're clean shaven."
"All right," Billy sighed. He had to wait for some cars to pass before he could get out of the car himself.
Machiavelli was waiting for him on the sidewalk. "Can I get a manicure too?"
"What?" Billy pulled a face. "Mac, we're trying to fit in. How many eleven year olds do you know that get their nails done? Or men in general?"
Machiavelli ignored the last comment. "I suppose so," he said. "Here's the barber." The bell rang as they went into the shop. An older man got out of the the barber's chair as they entered and greeted them at the door.
"Are you both getting a haircut?" he asked cheerfully, coming to stand before them.
"Yes," Billy said. "I suppose we both are." He smiled just slightly at the Italian. "My son doesn't think that I'll go through with it, so I suppose I'll go first." He motioned to Machiavelli. "Why don't you read a book?"
The Italian was already looking through the selection. He distastefully pushed aside the Dora the Explorer books and picked up a Batman comic. Though he looked through the comic book, he kept his ears pricked as Billy and the barber talked. He smiled slightly, hearing the general track of the conversation. It seemed like Billy had finally found someone who loved to talk more than he did.
"... and you look exactly like the man in a picture I have of my father." The barber blathered on. "This guy was one of the founders of the town. It's astounding how much you look alike. You could have been this guy's brother..."
"Is that so?" Billy asked, the vaguest trace of humor in his voice. "I guess it could have possibly been one of my relatives. They've owned a cabin up here for as long as I can remember."
"Oh, the Bonney cabin?" The older man said with familiarity. He spoke up over the sound of the razor whirring. Machiavelli stole a glance over at the American. Large tufts of Billy's light brown hair was drifting to the ground, but unfortunately the rotund man was blocking most of his view. He glanced back down. Batman had just changed out of his costume. "Then you must be related," the barber continued. "That explains a lot. I didn't know that Henry Bonney ever had children. He seemed like a bit of a loner."
"I think he was more lonely than a loner," Billy said carefully. He tilted his head to the side so that the man could get to his sideburns. "He eventually found someone that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with."
"You're all done." The barber said. He took a brush off of the tray in the other chair and swiped away at the short hairs. "Well, I'm glad to have met you. You never did tell me your name."
Billy stood up carefully and grinned. "I'm Billy Bonney. And it's your turn Mac," he called to the Italian. Machiavelli set aside the comic at last and looked up at his American friend. "How do I look? Handsome?" Billy asked, grinning.
"Handsome," Machiavelli said offhandedly. And the American did look very handsome. The Italian immortal made a mental note that he was going to keep Billy clean shaven for the rest of their lives if he had any say in the matter. The man actually looked older somehow and more mature when he was clean cut.
"How do you want your hair, son?" the barber asked affably. He motioned to the chair which Machiavelli clambered into hesitantly. The Italian looked at Billy for help, suddenly excruciatingly shy.
"Niccolò likes it short," Billy supplied for him.
"Niccolò, huh? Nice name." The man began to snip away at the Italian's curls. "He doesn't look much like you," the barber continued.
The American beamed. "I just adopted him. He's from Italy, doesn't speak a lot of English yet, but we're working on that." He tried to run his hand through his hair, but there wasn't enough to do anything and the outlaw scowled for the briefest of moments. His humor quickly returned, alongside his smile. "He's my sweetheart."
~MB~
"Why'd you tell the barber I couldn't speak English?" Machiavelli asked curiously as they picked their way through the grocery store.
Billy tossed a brownie mix in the car and leaned over for a container of vegetable oil. "I was afraid you wouldn't be able to answer all the questions barbers ask kids. Where do you go to school, what grade are you in, etc." He maneuvered the Italian in the direction of the dairy department.
"Oh, I guess that's smart. I wouldn't have thought of that." The Italian grabbed a carton of eggs and put them next to the milk. "What are we having for dinner tonight?"
Billy rubbed his chin. "I thought we might pick up a pizza on our way back to the cabin. Is that copacetic for you?" Machiavelli nodded. "Good. Come on darling, I think we've got everything we need."
They swung by the pizzeria on their way back from the grocery store. Billy let him hold the pizzas on his lap, much happier in fact, than if he had had to put the boxes down on his leather seats. For his part, Machiavelli enjoyed the feeling of the pizza box in his lap, the bottom of it heating up his legs comfortably in the cool air of early evening. "Why'd we get two pizzas? There are only five of us. And I'm not sure Scatty eats pizza." He glanced at the American and carefully stole a pepperoni.
"I got a cheese one specifically for Scatty. She says she's a vegetarian," Billy explained. He glanced over at the Italian. "And I saw that." Machiavelli looked at him defiantly, but Billy continued on. "Actually, I thought you were a vegetarian too when we first met."
"I was," Machiavelli confirmed. He paused, searching for the right words. "But I was a vegetarian because most food didn't taste good. And now it does. I don't know why it does though." He popped another pepperoni in his mouth. "I don't question it. I just hope my taste buds don't go back to how they were."
"Maybe it's another side effect of your transformation," Billy hazarded. "But stop taking pepperonis. We're not going to have any left by the time we get there."
"There will be plenty," Machiavelli protested. "You're just jealous because I have delicious pepperonis and you can't have any." He clutched the boxes protectively in his lap.
Billy snorted. He tugged at the window crank on the driver's side door. "Are you warm enough?" he asked suddenly.
"Yeah." Machiavelli gestured to the pizzas in his lap. "It's like having an electric blanket on." He hummed under his breath and looked out the window, then turned to the American. "I like your short hair. You look very handsome."
Billy blinked at the Italian's openness. "Thank you." He grinned cheekily. "I am one handsome devil. You're not bad yourself." He spun the wheel, guiding the convertible into their driveway. When he had come to a stop, he reached across Machiavelli and tried to open the door, but couldn't quite make it. He gave up. "End of the road kid. Don't get up, I'll come open your door."
"Thank you," the Italian said when Billy came around. He allowed the American to pull the boxes out of his hand. They could hear the Pup barking excitedly from the front windows. "Hey, Billy's waiting for us."
"I still think that was a bad idea," Billy mumbled under his breath as they walked into the cabin. Billy promptly tripped over the cat. Machiavelli fared much better, sidestepping the cat and scooping her up. He followed the American immortal into the kitchen where the other immortals were gathered. Nicholas appeared to have been in the middle of a humorous story, but dropped it as the two wandering immortals came back in.
Perenelle drew Machiavelli in beside her. "You look quite handsome, Niccolò. And you must feel better."
Machiavelli grinned. "Much better. I never let my hair get that long."
"I thought you were kind of cute," Scathach called. She peeked into the two boxes and snagged the box with the cheese pizza, pulling it out of the Frenchman's hands. Nicholas protested slightly and followed her.
Machiavelli meanwhile, puffed out his chest. "I don't want to look cute," he said scandalized. He dropped the cat on the ground. "I'm a grown man." He yipped when Billy poked him in the side and sulked slightly. The Italian grabbed half of the pizza for himself and settled on the couch. Georgette slunk up behind him and nipped him on the ear. He held up a pepperoni which the tabby pulled from his grasp. Billy the Pup laid his head in the Italian's lap and looked up at the boy with big eyes.
"Make that the last one you give him," Billy called from the kitchen. Machiavelli ducked his head guiltily, but grinned back at the American. "Dog's going to be shitting all night and I'm going to be the one cleaning it up," Billy muttered, flopping onto the couch beside the Italian. He looked back at the Flamels who had sat down at the kitchen table. "Are we going to watch a movie?"
"Sure," Scathach agreed, climbing over the back of the couch and settling next to Machiavelli. She rubbed the tabby's ears. Georgette put up with it for half a minute and then climbed over to where Billy was sitting. "Cats," Scathach grumbled. "I like them, but they never like me."
"Believe me, I wish she liked you more right now," Billy said, holding his plate high in the air to keep the cat's tail out it. He stroked Georgette's back and the tabby folded into his lap. She held up her head and purred loudly. The American immortal hesitantly lowered his plate down to chest level and awkwardly chewed on his pizza.
Machiavelli wasn't paying attention to the immortal on either side of him. He bounced impatiently. "What are we watching?" He looked back at the Flamels, twisting in his seat. "What do you want to watch?"
Nicholas glanced at Perenelle. The Frenchwoman shrugged. "We really have no preference," she said.
"Excellent," Machiavelli said happily. He looked at Billy. "We should watch Spartacus."
"That show with the gladiators?" Billy said hesitantly. "The fights and the violence and the massive amount of sex... ("Sounds good," Scatty broke in). I don't think so, Mac," he said. "You're very little." The Italian opened his mouth to protest, but Billy cut him off. He waggled a finger in the boy's face. "You look very little still. I would still feel like a pervert, no matter how old you actually are." Machiavelli relented, very unhappily.
"We should watch Captain America," Scathach said from the Italian's right. The European immortals in the room universally nixed the idea.
"I've seen enough nationalism in my life," Machiavelli told her. She gave him a heavy shove.
"I thought it was a good idea," Billy told her over the Italian's head. "You'd still get the action and violence," he told Machiavelli, poking him in the side.
"I wanted the sex!" Machiavelli said rather loudly. He raised his hands to the ceiling, gesticulating slightly. "For the first time in weeks, I have hormones pumping through my veins. This is no time to watch documentaries on pigeons!"
"Ooh, do they have documentaries on pigeons?" Billy asked, grabbing the remote control. He laughed when Machiavelli smacked him. "We're getting off topic. We could watch Psycho or Monty Python or Airplane..."
"Isn't Airplane just as inappropriate as Spartacus?" Perenelle asked thoughtfully, dumping the contents of the brownie mix into a big bowl. She rooted around in the top drawer, looking for a whisk.
Billy pointed at her. "Yes, but there's less nudity. And it's hilarious." He grabbed Machiavelli's hand before the Italian could take a bite of his pizza. "How much pizza have you had so far?"
"Maybe five pieces," Machiavelli said innocently, leaning into to bite his pizza.
Billy let go of the boy's hand. "Did you never have food or something when you were a kid? You have almost no control over yourself."
"I'm a growing boy," Machiavelli defended himself. "Anyways, are we decided? Are we watching Airplane?" he asked, looking around the room.
Nicholas nodded. He squeezed in next to Scatty, who leaned heavily on his shoulder. "Sure," she said, grinning. "I love the scene when-"
"Don't tell me," Machiavelli broke in quickly. "I've never seen it before."
"Let's just say there's a nun involved," Billy said mysteriously.