Eye See...Seven Ate Nine (ic789) wrote in ballistics_lab,
Eye See...Seven Ate Nine

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FIC: Pajama Party, (Nick/Bob)

TITLE: Pajama Party
PAIRING: Bobby Dawson/Nick Stokes
SPOILERS: Set after “For Warrick”
DISCLAIMER: I wish we could see this on CBS, alas it roams with unicorns and faeries.
SUMMARY: The couple celebrates Valentine's Day.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: All comments welcome! :)


“You love it...shh...Hon..SHHH...”


“Keep it down...”


The sudden noise freezes him abruptly. “D'ya hear that?” he whispers conspiratorily.

“Unnhhhhh...just the...headboard...please...”

More bangs...similar to knocking.

“That's not the headboard. Ya'll were too loud...”

Yes, someone is knocking at the bedroom door. More persistently as he begins disengaging himself.


“Shit,” I whisper through the hair on his chin. Initially his beard looked ridiculous growing in, but now I never want him to shave it off. Ever.

”...Umm...is Nicky alright?” The small voice full of concern immediately pulls us apart. “...Daddy?”


“Eva, what's wrong?” Bobby's already at the door to our bedroom, a pillow hiding his engorgement as he peeks his head outside, eyes squinting into the hall light. I try pulling the sheet to cover me, but have trouble as its twisted in an obscene way.

“Nicky was yelling.” I can see her small bed head skulking around the pillow to see what we're doing. “It woke me up. Even the baby is awake.”

As she reaches for the wall switch, I quickly turn on the bedside lamp, trying to lay in a natural position. Unfortunately the covers have not cooperated, so I roll to my knees on the other side of the bed, leaning on my forearms. “I'm sorry Honey. Daddy wanted to wrestle,” I dramatically wipe the sweat from my face.

Bobby shoots me a death glare of epic proportion as he tries holding her back from entering the room with one hand. Her Cinderella pajama sleeves are pushed up, she tried getting into the crib with the baby again. She'll be reprimanded, but it will have to wait.

The wails begin. Bobby shakes his head, his frown lines deep. “I told ya' it would wake 'em up.” Bending down, he kisses her forehead. “Please go back to your room. We'll be in soon.”

“Nicky, you don't have to get up,” she says crossly. Her expression is full of fire, however, Bobby's is worse.

She thinks I'm hurting him, something that we've been battling in the last few months. I can't help it, the beard is literally driving me erotically crazy. His facial hair is unbelievabIy soft, although he denies using special conditioner. I can't keep my hands to myself. As he goes to the closet to find a cover-up, I hop back onto the bed; laying on my back and letting my manhood salute him.

“Ya'll better stop that.” He leans over swiping my wet head with his tongue. “She's mad.”

He throws night pants at me. “Get dressed. Tonight you get to deal with our little screamer.”

Kissing each other on the lips leaving the room, we're ready to do battle with the small folks sharing our home.

“Ahhh....ahhh....ahhh...” his little body shakes with tears streaming down that beautiful face. As I lean in, he grabs at me like a drowning man, still screaming.

“Ohhh Honey. Shh....it's okay.” I struggle with bringing him back to bed with us. “Shhh...I'm here now...” Eva will have a fit if “the baby” gets to sleep with us again; and Bob will shake his head scowling. I gently rock him from side to side, trying to control my own tears. He's seen me cry too many times.

“Shhh..let me tell ya' about your Daddy; y'know he's my best friend.” I lay him on the changing table while his arms reach for any part of me. He's so upset and strong. “You look so much like him. And when you're cryin' like this, it reminds me of when he lost the Super Bowl bets...a few times.”

The tears always get me as I clearly see Warrick's eyes. And he's much bigger now, the thrashing makes it that much more difficult to get the job done. Securing the second tape on his diaper, he finally shoots me a look of what I think and hope is calmness. He lets me pull his little brown legs into his jammies and snap him safely back together. I wrap the snuggle blanket close around him like a burrito, although he's not a newborn anymore.

I missed this part with Eva, and I cherish every moment with him. We've learned a lot together, he and I. While his little lower lip slightly trembles, I can feel his small body relax when I pick him up, holding him close to my body. Thank goodness the tears have halted. I rock him and gently lay him in the cradle.

“Is he gonna sleep with you?” Eva's small voice almost whispers behind me. I know that she loves her brother; but she's had difficulty sharing him with us, especially Bobby.

“No. He has to learn to sleep in his own bed. Wanna sleep with us?” I ask because I want to be fair, personally wishing she'll agree; although Bob won't like it one bit. And I know that our intimate life is finished tonight.

“Daddy won't like it.” She says matter of factly. When she was younger and Bobby worked nights, I brought her into bed with me because it was like having him partially there and made me feel much more secure. He explained that I was doing her a disservice, so I grudgingly stopped. But the baby is a different story.

“What if we had a family 'pajama party'?


“Let's go talk to Country...I mean...Daddy. C'mon...”

I hold my hand out to her, hoping that she'll take it. She doesn't, but waves at the crib. “Ya wanna kiss him 'Goodnight' again?” She shrugs in a weird way as she contemplates it; so I guide her shoulder out of the bedroom. The prospect of getting to sleep with us is more important now. The baby is fast asleep.

Sitting up in our bed, Bobby's 'tent' gives away his belief about the evenings end; I pick Eva up and twirl around with her a few times, watching Bobby writhe quickly to a more respectable position.

“Hey, we have an idea!” She stands next to me impatiently, after I've put her back down. I hold down a giggle as Bobby continues struggling.

“Daddy, can we sleep with you?” she asks innocently.

“Not tonight, Sweets.” He scoots over, kissing her forehead.

“No...one night a week. Can all of us sleep here?” she remarks, sweeping her little arms around our bed. “Even the baby?” I know that it took a lot for her to include him; the jealousy has been palpable since we brought him home.

“How 'bout this...one night both of you can sleep with us. How's that sound?” He asks her so lovingly, that I almost forget how uncomfortable it will be. She nods, and then looks at me expectantly.

“No, not tonight.” He's adamant, shooting me another glare. “Let's get ya' back into bed...besides, you're already in trouble for tryin' to get into the crib.” Somehow he manages to scoot out of the bed and pick her up quickly. He carries her to her bedroom; as I consider what awaits me upon his return.

“How do ya' do that?”


“You're butt naked.”

“Yeah...she doesn't care. I tell her to close her eyes so I'll be in her dreams.”


“I know. Time is runnin' out when I can carry her that way, but I'm gonna do it as long as I can. Besides, now she snuggles into my face...a lot like someone else I know.”

He leans over, head beginning the crawl up to my chest. Feeling his beard across my navel makes me shiver; I'm arching instinctively trying to thrust myself into his mouth.

“Ya' need to be punished for all that yellin'.” He leers at me as my erection rubs against him with a mind all it's own.


It's Valentine's Day night; Eva's tiny knees are thrusting into my kidneys as her stuffed Winnie the Pooh bear buries his Honey Pot into my shoulders. Just as I drift off, a small foot kicks my ass. And I'm competing with Tricky Rick for Bob's touch. The baby squirms in his sleep, and he's too hot, like a small oven wearing all of those clothes. I grumpily lean up on my elbow, looking at Bobby sound asleep.

“Happy Valentine's Cowboy. You wanted to celebrate with them here,” he whispers with a smug smile on his face.

“Yeah, I guess I did, didn't I?” Leaning way over to kiss him, I know that he truly loves me.

“Love ya'...” he sighs, drifting back to sleep.

Turning over, I gently coax Eva to roll onto her other side along with Pooh. Smiling to myself, I really wouldn't want to have it any other way.

“Love ya' more, Country...”
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