I'm at that stage in the Bloodline writing cycle where I'm still mentally recovering from the last update and eager to work on literally anything else so here's some more DCU dilf shenanigans in the name of character development.

Chapter 12: Honey, I'm Home

The mission was a smashing success and Kurda could confidently say he'd never felt more proud of himself than he did on the trek back to Vampire Mountain. To make a long story short, under Kurda's seamless facilitation a small but persistent group of vampaneze had begrudgingly agreed to stand down and cease what could have turned into an uprising capable of threatening the treaty. They'd been essentially holding a small village hostage. Normally the vampire clan wouldn't interfere, but a few Generals felt this was setting a dangerous precedent. The Princes had been prepared to deploy some vampires to put a stop to it. They didn't really want to do that, so they tried a soft approach by way of Kurda. And it worked magnificently. Maybe next time a problem arose, his peers wouldn't scoff at him when he suggested a heavy-handed approach didn't always have to be the clan's immediate go-to.

But as he made his way up through Vampire Mountain for the first time in over three months, all he could think about was getting back to Gracie. Most of the mountain was asleep, and Kurda had already mind-linked with Paris who was on duty in the Hall of Princes at the time. Paris confirmed Kurda could wait until the following night for the official debriefing, and encouraged him to take a well-deserved rest before getting down to business.

Kurda didn't stop until he reached the door to the three-cavern suite he shared with Mika and Gracie. Neither of them knew he was arriving that night - he wanted to surprise Gracie. Before turning the knob, Kurda paused.

It was a little past Gracie's bedtime, but they weren't too far off schedule. He could hear Mika reading to her, and Kurda could physically feel his heart swell a little bit. Gods, he'd missed this.

"And so, the knight in shining armour slayed the terrible dragon. And with a swing of his sword, the beautiful princess was finally free from her tower of imprisonment…" Mika read, then he snorted derisively and added his own footnote. "Just because you're a princess doesn't mean you have to stare out the window and wait for some dumbass in a tin can to solve your problems. Remember that."

"I get sword?" Gracie asked, voice lifting with excitement.

"In a few years." Mika assured her. Behind the door, Kurda gritted his teeth. He didn't relish the thought of her being accidentally indoctrinated into the clan's affinity for traditional warfare just because Mika thought it was fun to indulge her.

"I princess-knight!" Kurda didn't have to see Gracie to know she was grinning from ear to ear. But then she added with some concern, "Don't want to slay dragon. What if he nice?"

Then Kurda smiled as he remembered she was his kid just as much as Mika's.

"Interesting point. You're absolutely right. You should always get as much information as you can before passing judgement on a person. Or a dragon." Mika replied seriously.

Okay, maybe Gracie wasn't on the fast track to becoming a baby barbarian after all. And Kurda was done listening from behind the door. It was time to come home. He didn't have to knock first, but he did.

"Gracie, who do you think that is?!" He heard Mika say in faux bewilderment. Kurda knew Mika would be able to tell by the knock. The only other person brave enough to bother Mika in his room is Arrow, and Arrow doesn't knock at all.

"Who there?"

"I don't know. Can you go check for me?" Mika added encouragingly.

A second later, the door creaked open. Two seconds later, Kurda was on his knees on the floor while Gracie shouted incoherently and scrambled into his arms. She wrapped herself around his neck and chest so tightly he felt his spine might never be the same.

"Is this my baby girl?!" Kurda laughed as he hugged her back. "It can't be! The Gracie I remember was definitely not this tall!"

"It me!" Gracie huffed as though Kurda was being impossibly dense. She pulled back from the embrace just far enough so that Kurda could see her exasperated little glare. And that made Kurda's heart swell more than he even thought possible.

"Oh, there she is! I'd recognize that face anywhere." Said Kurda, beaming as he ran his hand over her silky hair that by some cosmic coincidence was identical to his own. "I love you so much, Gracie. I missed you every second I was gone."

"No more gone." Said Gracie with immovable sternness, looking Kurda dead in the eye.

"No more gone." Kurda agreed solemnly. "I'm home now. I won't be gone again for a long time"

"Never gone." She argued.

Kurda sighed, knowing he couldn't promise that. He pulled her back against his chest and held her like a lifeline, suddenly wishing with all his heart he could just exist in this moment forever. He glanced over at Mika, who'd been hanging back and allowing Gracie and Kurda to have their moment. After all, Mika didn't exactly share Gracie's emotional investment in Kurda's disappearance and abrupt return to their lives.

"And here I thought I'd finally gotten rid of you." Mika commented in a tone of disdain that didn't fool Kurda in the slightest, because neither of them were the same person they were a year ago. And Mika may have had a rock-solid poker face, but Kurda could clearly see his mouth twitching with the threat of a smile.

"You think I'd let you turn her into a miniature sword hoarder? Thank the gods I came back when I did." Kurda rolled his eyes and flipped Mika off behind Gracie's back. Which strangely caused Mika to abandon his front of indifference altogether.

"Whatever. Welcome home, General." Mika replied, the words coming out as a soft laugh, his steely eyes alight with amusement as he let himself smile. He offered Kurda a hand so he could stand up off the floor without dislocating Gracie - who still had his entire upper body in a chokehold.

"You're back for two minutes and I'm already irrelevant." Mika chuckled. He reached over to tickle Gracie's back, but she was so focused on Kurda she ignored Mika completely.

"You had her full attention for almost four months. Let me have this."

"I wouldn't say I had her full attention. She asked about you at least three times a day." Mika replied lightly. "I know I'm the favourite, but you're a closer second place than I realized."

"She asked about me that much?"

"Would I lie to boost your ego?"

"Touché." Said Kurda. "So how's everything been here?"

"Well we're still short-staffed during a council year, so you can imagine. But that's old news. Hey Gracie, you should show Other Daddy that really exciting thing you found while he was away. He'll love it." Said Mika seriously. Gracie's face lit up like a firework show, and she shot out of Kurda's arms, pulling him along with the disproportionately strong grip she had around his hand. Kurda followed her obediently as she led him to her room.

"Wow, did you get a new toy box?" Said Kurda enthusiastically as he checked out the large wooden crate that hadn't been there when he left. In hindsight, Mika's low-key sadistic smirk of amusement should've been Kurda's first red flag.

"Wait for it." Mika muttered.

Gracie threw open the lid and leaned in to retrieve something. The box was so big she could practically disappear into it.

"Daddy, meet Lovely!"

Kurda saw a crop of grey fuzzy hair and assumed she'd gotten another stuffed animal. Visitors to the mountain often brought her little gifts, usually in an effort to suck up to Mika and get on his good side. Mika doesn't complain, and neither does Gracie.

"Wow! What have you got there?" Unfortunately, Kurda was paying more attention to the blissful grin on Gracie's face than whatever she was holding. Until the thing moved when he touched it - then it had his full attention.

While Kurda doesn't share Mika's level of psychological trauma where spiders are concerned, he sure as hell doesn't like the things either. He yelped in shock, at a pitch so high he might've felt embarrassed if he hadn't been so alarmed.

"Charna's guts, Gracie! What are you doing with a gigantic spider?" Kurda choked out, automatically jumping backwards.

"Grampa Seba is an even bigger sucker than I am." Said Mika. He was still standing way back. "Welcome to the last two and a half months of my life."

All Kurda could do was gawk quizzically at him.

"Don't you have… issues with these things?"

"Crippling phobia." Mika corrected him blithely.

"Right. And yet… this creature just lives in her room? No more than thirty feet from where you sleep?"

"Correct."

"Oh, how the clan's star negotiator has fallen." Said Kurda, managing a rueful grin.

"Hey, I tried. I stood my ground and said no. Told Seba to take it back to the tunnels. I was doing great until she started crying. She really knows how to exploit my weakness. It's a little scary."

"Well… welcome to the family, Lovely." Said Kurda with a wry smile. "I guess we should've known there'd be a pet eventually. Perhaps I shouldn't have vetoed your wolf pup idea so quickly."

"Lovely got sick and Daddy save him life." Gracie added solemnly, now sitting on the floor with the Lovely perched on her shoulder. Kurda didn't know a spider could look content.

"He did, did he?" Kurda chuckled, turning to Mika in bewilderment.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Lovely got a fection. Grampa Seba make special medicine and Daddy help Lovely drink it."

"Yes. I definitely wanted to relive that experience. Thank you, Gracie." Said Mika with a grimace.

"Welcome, Daddy."

"Wow. And here I was thinking you two would be lost without me." Kurda laughed. He sat down cross-legged on the floor beside Gracie, and cautiously reached out to pet the tarantula on her shoulder. "May I?"

"Pet him gentle." Gracie instructed him.

"Of course, darling. I'll pet him very gently." Kurda affirmed. So he did just that, and was actually pleasantly surprised by how soft the creature was. He expected a prickly sensation, but Lovely's hair felt disarmingly pleasant.

"You going to join us?" Kurda asked, grinning waywardly up at Mika who was standing a few feet away and eyeing lovely warily.

"I'll pass." Said Mika swiftly. "Lovely and I have spent more than enough time together. You deserve a chance to get the full experience."

"He's softer than he looks. I'll give him that much credit." Kurda remarked, winking at Gracie. "Honestly I'm starting to see the appeal."

"Daddy give Lovely kiss?" Gracie asked earnestly.

"Oh, I don't think we're on that level yet." Said Kurda, automatically leaning away.

"He'll get you when you least expect it. He likes to slip in some pincer." Said Mika ominously. "Anyway, since you're back I'm going to check in with Paris to see if he needs anything. Arrow's been busy helping Vanez lately, so Paris and I have been managing the Hall of Princes mainly by ourselves."

"Alright. See you later." Said Kurda. He smiled appreciatively at Mika, knowing full well Mika's intention was to allow Kurda some long-awaited one-on-one time with Gracie. And he appreciated the hell out of that.

Mika closed the door softly behind him, and then there were two. Or three if you count Lovely, and Kurda supposed he had no choice but to count Lovely.

"I missed you so much, Gracie." Kurda murmured.

"Missed Daddy."

"Guess how much I missed you."

"How?"

Kurda stretched his arms as wide as they could possibly go, then pushed a little farther still, and told Gracie,

"This much."

"That much?"

"Yes, but times a million."

"So much!"

"That's how much I missed you, how much I love you, and how happy I am to be here with you." Kurda didn't mean for his voice to issue as a pathetic rasp, but gods damn this was somehow more emotional than he'd expected. And he was considerably more in touch with his feelings than Mika was.

"And Lovely?"

"And Lovely."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Gracie shuffled closer to Kurda so she could lean into him. He wrapped his arm around her, taking care not to disturb Lovely.

"Did you do anything else exciting while I was gone?" Kurda prompted her after a while.

"Lot of meetings." Said Gracie, in a briskly casual way that made her sound like an adult describing her corporate work week to a friend during Friday happy hour.

"I know, honey. Must've been hard to sit through all that." Kurda sighed ruefully.

"Not hard. Daddy give cookies."

"Ah. That was nice of him."

"Whole box cookies!"

"The whole box?! Wow! He sure was generous with all that refined sugar!" Kurda snorted, tickling Gracie's chin playfully while vowing to grill Mika about that later.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Gracie?"

"Going back to France?"

Kurda's heart clenched. Life was so much easier before she could talk. Of course he had no idea if he'd ever have to go to France again, specifically. But Gracie wasn't actually asking about France. She was trying to gauge if this leaving thing was going to happen again.

Kurda sighed once more, and suddenly felt a few centuries older.

"Baby girl, why don't you put Lovely back in his box?"

A minute later, Lovely had been put to bed and Kurda was seated in his desk chair with Gracie sitting contentedly in his lap. But she was still peering up at him with an expression most curious.

"There will be more times like this in the future." Kurda told her gently. "Times where one of your dads has to go away for a while. I know it's a big change for you, only having one of us around. But planning ahead makes big changes less scary. That's why we're talking about it now, even though it won't happen again for a long time."

"I go with you." Gracie replied immdiately. And it wasn't a question, either.

"Don't you like hanging out here with your Other Daddy? He's the one who gives you free access to the cookies, apparently."

"Daddy go with us!" Gracie was straight-up impatient now, as though Kurda was being ignorant on purpose.

"I wish it worked like that. We've both got big jobs to do, and we won't always be able to do them here at home. Sometimes we have to help keep our clan safe, the way we keep you safe. But I promise you'll never be alone. And you will always, always be safe."

"I go with you!" Gracie repeated, her voice reduced to a whimper as she got frustrated.

"You know I never want to be apart from you." Kurda countered softly, kissing the top of her head. "But I don't always have a choice. Sometimes I have to go where you can't follow me. But even when you can't see me, I still love you as big as the mountain. That will never change."

"Love you big." Gracie echoed. Her ocean eyes, wide with uncertainty, still focused on Kurda's face as though he'd disappear if she blinked. Kurda blinked though, desperate to banish the tears before they spilled over the waterline.

"You're the smartest, bravest girl in the whole world. I'm so proud of you." He murmured at last.

Gracie didn't have any follow-up questions, and Kurda was grateful for that. He was content to simply exist here in this warm, safe room that he now recognized as home, even though it was technically just Mika's storage cavern. Love lived here, and that made it home. Gracie remained curled up against his chest, and eventually she fell asleep. Kurda held her for a little longer, then transitioned her into her coffin with painstaking slowness so as not to interrupt her slumber.

Kurda unpacked the small amount of supplies he'd taken with him, then endeavoured to pour himself a glass of water. His pitcher had run dry in his absence, so he slipped to Mika's room to borrow some. Mika always kept the essentials in a neat line - jug of blood, pitcher of water, bottle of whiskey, jar of miscellaneous snacks. On that particular night, the featured snack was strips of dry, cured meat. Normally Kurda wasn't a jerky aficionado but he was hungry from his trip so he indulged himself. It wasn't as if Mika ever asked before helping himself to Kurda's snacks.

That was when Mika walked in, because of course it was.

"So you're unsupervised in my room with all my good liquor to choose from… and you steal my water. This is a whole new low for you." Said Mika, casting his disparaging gaze over Kurda, who couldn't be bothered to feel abashed in the slightest.

"And your jerky." Kurda shrugged, unceremoniously tearing into the strip he was holding. "Would you rather I ransack your top shelf?"

"At least then I'd know you had good taste."

"Remember when I moved into this room and you told me if I laid a finger on any of your possessions, there'd be legal ramifications?" Said Kurda dubiously - through a mouthful of jerky.

"Hard to forget the weirdest night of my life." Mika reminisced. His features were momentarily illuminated with a smirk of twisted fondness.

"It was all downhill from there." Kurda remarked wryly.

"Gracie almost makes up for it."

"She totally makes up for it."

"You're not wrong." Said Mika. He ambled over to sit in his desk chair, where he sighed contentedly as if he was the one who'd just returned from a voyage. As though he was as relieved to have Kurda home as Kurda was to be home.

"I almost forgot. I brought you a souvenir." Said Kurda, grinning wickedly as he remembered. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a folded-up piece of paper - a postcard. It featured a photo of delicious-looking croissants piled in a quaint wicker basket. The backdrop was a farmer's market, with the iconic Eiffel Tower looming in the distance. Mika stared down at the postcard with long-suffering disbelief intermingled with begrudging amusement.

"You asked for butter croissants. There they are. I tried to mail it to you, but the post office said they couldn't deliver to the address." Kurda added sarcastically.

Mika turned the card over to read the "address" and accompanying note Kurda had written on the back.

To: M. Ver Leth
2nd Throne On The Left, Hall Of Princes
Vampire Mountain

"Dear Mika,

First of all, "dear" is a relative term, so stop making that face. Second of all, I was wrong. I did get a chance to tour downtown Paris, and I finally understand why you're so enamoured by butter croissants. The twenty pounds I gain will be worth every bite. Of course you'll just have to take my word for it. As I reminded you before my departure, fresh baking doesn't travel well. But I'd never want you to miss out - I was eating a croissant while I wrote this note, so I'm sure if you sniff really hard and use a bit of imagination, it'll feel almost like you're here in the cafe with me. But you're not, so I'll continue to enjoy this flaky, juicy croissant in peace. I.e, without you complaining in my ear.

Hope you're well.

Regards, K."

"I'm going to have you arrested for acting like you're funny when you're not." Mika deadpanned. And yet, he pinned the postcard to the corkboard on the wall.

"You've been saying that for almost a year. I'm still waiting."

Mika arched an eyebrow, but changed the subject.

"Paris said he's letting you debrief tomorrow so you could get a good sleep first. That was nice of him. You're lucky he was coordinating that mission - personally I wouldn't have had the patience to wait that long."

"That's why Paris is my favourite Prince." Said Kurda. "I mind-linked with him as I approached the mountain. I relayed the overall summary of events and told him the mission was a success. He was perfectly fine with saving the nitty gritty details for tomorrow."

"Paris is everyone's favourite Prince." Said Mika dismissively. But not much gets past Sire Ver Leth. Kurda could practically see Mika's pupils dilate with interest. Clan politics were Mika's one great love - besides Gracie. Paris may have facilitated the deployment of this particular mission, but Mika was clearly invested. "So it went well?"

"It went perfectly." Kurda admitted, grinning.

"Perfectly enough to warrant me pouring you a glass?" Mika asked seriously, holding up the bottle of whiskey he always kept on his desk.

"Please. My performance was top-shelf caliber. Skimming your water is one thing. But if you're offering, I'm not settling for a sip of your emergency whiskey." Kurda replied, arching an eyebrow and gesturing at the sealed bottles of wine and various liquor that lined the top of Mika's dresser on the other side of the room.

Mika rolled his eyes, but walked to where Kurda was pointing.

"Just this one time. Pick your poison, General Smahlt." Said Mika, slowly hovering his hand along the row of unopened bottles.

"That bottle of red with the gold label." Said Kurda without hesitation.

"You had that locked and loaded. Do you just come in here and eyeball my liquor when I'm not around?" Mika shot Kurda a look but picked up the bottle and popped the cork with one smooth twist of his dagger.

"Doesn't take a trained eye to see that bottle's worth more than the rest of your stash put together."

"Fuck, is it actually?" Mika's eyes widening incredulously as he turned the bottle over in his hands as though he'd see diamonds floating around in the burgundy liquid.

"I thought you were a liquor snob! How do you not know what that bottle's worth?"

"I didn't buy it. It was a gift from some kiss-ass General hoping for a high-profile mission assignment. And I'm a whiskey snob."

"Alright, while you pretend whiskey and wine are in the same league, I'm going to pour myself a glass of what I can only assume will be the most expensive thing I'll ever drink. Which General bought you that?!"

"Azerion, I think. But I doubt he bought it." Mika shrugged dismissively before taking a long drink straight from the bottle. Kurda gasped like he'd been stabbed, and Mika shot him a glare of intense reproach. "What?"

"You can't just slurp wine like that out of the bottle! That's practically blasphemy!"

"Even for you, that's really pretentious." Mika dead-eyed Kurda with blatant apathy. "No matter how cultured you think you are, remember you shower in a waterfall and sleep in an old wooden box."

"Just give me the bottle, you incorrigible fuck." Kurda huffed, thin patience finally wearing out.

And then, just like magic, Mika's face abruptly cracked into a positively devilish grin as he revelled in Kurda's vehemence.

"I didn't know you knew that word!" Said Mika with false awe.

"Oh, shut up."

"Seriously, was that your first swear? And you chose me to share it with? This is such a special moment. You're going to make me cry."

"Of course it wasn't my - you know what, I'm done with you. I've been walking nonstop for a month and a half, sleeping on the cold hard ground, and this is what I come home to?" Kurda growled.

"If you expected anything different, that's on you." Said Mika. And honestly, he had a point.

"Just for the record, your memory must be slipping. The first time I swore in front of you was the day Gracie went missing and I had a full-blown panic attack because I convinced myself she fell down a water closet." Kurda added flatly. "And the second time was when I cussed Arrow out to his face over breakfast.

"Right." said Mika with a thin smile. "First one was warranted. Second one was just funny."

Mika took another long drink from the bottle. Kurda managed to maintain his front of staunch exasperation for exactly three more seconds, then he surrendered to the laugher that wanted so badly to be heard.

"To think there was even a single, solitary moment throughout the last four months where I felt like I almost missed you." He chuckled, clapping Mika on the shoulder.

"Can't relate. I had the time of my life without you." Mika held the bottle out to Kurda at last. "Cheers to the end of the best four months of my life. And to the end of a successful mission by General Smahlt, I guess."

"Hold that thought." Still laughing, Kurda slipped away to his room and returned momentarily with a wine glass in each hand while Mika rolled his eyes.

"Have I ever told you you're pretentious as fuck?"

"About four times a week. Call it what you want, I can't watch you embarrass that wine for one more second." Kurda pushed one of the glasses into Mika's hand. "And don't you dare roll your eyes at me. I know you have an eye for the finer things. It's one of the few ways you're more evolved than Vancha or Arrow."

Mika watched with reluctant amusement as Kurda poured the deep red velvety liquid into each glass.

"Unfortunately this isn't actually the correct type of glass for red wine. They're meant for white, but they're the only glasses I have." Kurda admitted with a grimace. Mika's eyebrows just about ascended into his hairline.

"So you're preaching at me like you're some kind of sommelier, yet you don't even have the proper equipment? And I'm the monster for drinking out of the bottle?"

"Shut up, Mika."

"Can I drink my wine now?"

"Are you going to show it the respect it deserves, or are you going to guzzle it like Gracie with apple juice? She ratted you out about the cookies, by the way. But we'll discuss that later."

"I changed my mind. Now I just want to pour it on your head."

"Okay, so the first step is to smell the wine before you drink it." Said Kurda briskly, letting Mika's sass go unchallenged. Mika looked skeptical, but obediently took a sniff from the glass.

"Yeah. It's definitely wine. We're good to go."

"Do you detect hints of anything else?" Kurda pressed. "A fruit, perhaps? Or a certain type of wood? You know the barrel makes a huge impact on the aroma."

"…Grapes. I detect grapes."

"Lucky guess. Okay, take a sip but don't swallow right away. You have to swirl around your palate for a second."

"You lost me at swirl." Mika narrowed wrinkled his nose as though Kurda suggested something truly offensive.

"And be conscious of how you breathe while the wine is in your mouth. It's the back of your nose that really senses the taste structure." Kurda continued earnestly.

"I need you to know you're ruining alcohol for me." Said Mika. But at last he held the glass up to his lips and took a sip. He stared Kurda down as he held the wine in his mouth for a few moments before swallowing it.

"Well?"

"Transcendent. Like I was licking the inside of the barrel while the grapes were jammed up my nose. Borderline religious experience." Said Mika with a completely straight face.

Kurda exhaled what was quite possibly the deepest, heaviest sigh of his entire life. It felt like it issued from the very depths of his soul, rather than his lungs.

"I hate you."

"I know. Now can you tell me about the mission or are you going to make me wait for the official debrief?"

Mika made his way over to his desk and took a seat on the mahogany surface. But he left some space, and Kurda knew it was an unspoken invitation to join him there. So he did just that.

"Are you going to tell me how the last four months really went?" Kurda retorted, elbowing him in the ribs.

"Nothing to tell. Business as usual, just with one less voice yakking my ear off." Said Mika dismissively. "It was a nice break."

"You're telling me you didn't feel even a little overwhelmed managing everything by yourself? Even at the best of times, this mountain is almost as high-maintenance as Gracie. And we're short-staffed. And it's a council year. And I was gone for four months."

"I told you I'd manage, and I did." Mika insisted. Right on cue, his voice was undercut with his old default of cool wariness. Just when Kurda thought he'd finally disabled that setting for good.

"I'm not trying to gauge your performance here. If it was hard, you can just tell me."

"I was fine Kurda! What do you want me to say? Gracie missed you bad, but we knew that would happen. I handled it. The stupid tarantula helped, so I let her keep it. The cookies helped, so I'd give her a whole box if my meetings ran long. So maybe her sleep schedule got shot to shit! And maybe she missed a few servings of vegetables! But I made sure she was happy. I can do that much right." Mika snapped. Proving once again he'd mastered the art of sounding simultaneously heated, yet cold as fuck.

"Would you just listen to me?! You don't have to be this defensive." Kurda groaned. But his suggestion fell on deaf ears.

"And when she cried in my arms because she thought you were gone forever, I cancelled everything so she wouldn't think I was leaving her too!" Mika continued vehemently. "I skipped meals, lost sleep, and missed as many meetings as I could get away with. Whatever it took, I did it for her and I'd do it again. We're fine, exactly like I told you we would be!" A shade of desperation had crept into his voice. Like Mika was trying to reassure himself more than Kurda.

"I wasn't attacking you!" Kurda cut Mika off, frustration causing his voice increase in pitch. How was Mika not getting this?!. He sprung off the desk so he could stand directly facing his wayward co-parent, sparks flying from his eyes. "I don't know what part of you is so broken it twists my genuine concern for your well-being into a personal attack on your competence. But you are the only one here who thinks you're not enough. I am not your enemy, so stop acting like I am."

Mika said nothing, just gazed back at Kurda out of bloodshot eyes. It was the first time Kurda looked closely at Mika's face since returning. And Mika really wasn't kidding when he said he'd lost sleep. The evidence was all there in plain view. Without breaking eye contact, Mika raised the wine glass to his lips and drained it in one slow motion.

"I'm working on it." Mika murmured at last. "I can understand five languages but genuine concern for my well-being isn't one of them."

"That's become very apparent." Kurda replied stiffly.

"It's next on my list, though."

"Hey, during the first week I didn't think you'd ever get the diapers figured out. But now you can do it with your eyes closed."

"It's easier that way." Mika shrugged. Then he paused to stare down into the empty glass in his hands for a few long moments until finally he looked back up. His face looked different somehow. Kurda couldn't quite put his finger on it. All he knew was that there'd been a shift. "No matter how enough I am, I'm better when you're here. Gracie wasn't the only one who felt like you were gone forever." Mika added.

Now Kurda was the one who needed a beat of silence before he could respond.

"Well, parenthood is designed to be a two-player sport, ideally. Makes sense." Kurda offered cautiously.

"You hate sports." Mika snorted.

"I'm trying to relate to you, you blockheaded moron."

"Oh. Sorry. Carry on."

"That was all the material I had." Kurda sighed. But he managed a weary chuckle, and eased himself back up onto the desk. "Mika, this will be so much easier if we look out for each other. I'm not asking to be your best friend-"

"I already have a best friend."

"Well, I don't want to be your best friend. But you can't act like I'm committing high treason every time I wonder if you're okay."

And clearly Mika was more strung-out and sleep deprived than he let on, because he shifted ever so slightly to the left until his shoulder was touching Kurda's.

"If you're still wondering, I'm okay now." said Mika quietly. "And while you were gone, I wondered if you were okay too."

Kurda tilted his head to the side so he could catch Mika's eye, and he smiled.

"I was okay."

"Just okay? I could've sworn you told me earlier the mission was an overwhelming success."

"I didn't say overwhelming." Kurda scoffed, cheeks flushing because even though he was trying so hard to be humble, it really had been an overwhelming success.

"Your face did. Earlier, and again just now." Mika noted, steel-grey eyes suddenly focused and attentive. Kurda was reminded once again that Mika could see through Kurda just as transparently as Kurda could see through him.

"I guess you'll find out the details tomorrow along with Paris and Arrow." Said Kurda offhandedly, as if he wasn't dying to tell Mika everything.

Mika's face fell dramatically like Kurda had offended him on a cellular level.

"You can't lump me in with them!" He protested. "Kurda, I am raising fifty percent of your child." His voice was so utterly plaintive it transcended into comedy.

"Yeah, the fifty percent of her that's now made of cookie because you solve problems with sugar."

"Why are you like this?"

"Okay, I'm sorry. Couldn't resist." Kurda laughed. "Pour me another glass of that ridiculous wine and I'll tell you all about it."

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