"No, no, that was..." Trailing off, she shrugs. That wasn't a memory just tossed out willy nilly like everyone else's, that was one freely given and clearly held dear to Dylan's heart. "That was wonderful."
But it does bring her full circle to something she probably should have brought up before the impromptu proposal, but it seems more pressing now that Dylan was gifted with newfound youth and vitality. It was on the tip of her tongue at May Day. "Do you want kids?"
The nerves turn to uncertainty because, as she would have mentioned when they'd first started having sex, she's sterile. If he wants a family, Kali will not be the one able to give it to him and she wants to make sure they're on the same page with that now that he's young enough to actually sort of keep up with children underfoot. Maybe the Agents could facilitate an adoption, but biologically... it's impossible.
The answer is automatic, as he thinks of Jack, of Neal (of Daniel and Henley and Merritt, while they were here). They might not be his by blood, might not share his last name as is apparently biological imperative, according to her, but that doesn't change facts. They're his, even if he's old enough to pass for Jack's brother now, even if he hasn't outright named himself one of Neal's two dads, and that's good enough for him. He can more than live with that.
"I kind of gave up on the idea of having kids of my own a long time ago," he continues after a moment and in spite of the ferocious truth of his initial statement. "It was kind of -- of the price of admission of what I was doing. Of what I wanted to do." For his father.
"Jack and Neal are good enough for me." A beat, and then as if it's not clear, if she still thinks he's secretly upset by the idea that she can't give him children, he adds, "You're good enough for me."
Kali literally deflates with relief. She's never wanted kids, not because she's sterile, but because she never had an urge to nurture and raise another human being. It was never anything she wanted in her life and she never felt less because of it. Just herself hasn't always been good enough for her for other reasons so being enough for Dylan makes her feel so much better in their relationship. She didn't realize that one question bugged her until it was out.
A slow smile brightens her expression and makes her eyes sparkle with contentment. Max had said something was different about her -- possibly that she was being civil for once and not a horrible person -- and Kali knows she owes a lot of that to Dylan for helping her be enough in her own skin.
She nods, words trapped behind the lump in her throat, speechless for once, and tucks her head against his chest again. This is more than enough. This is perfection.
He lets her rest her head against his chest, much as he wants to do otherwise, to hook his fingers under her chin, force her to look at him. He figures she deserves the closeness, knows the reason for it, and doesn't want to take that away from her. More than that, he figures he can communicate what he wants to say with the right amount of passion without making her look at him.
That in mind, he buries a hand in her hair and softly but seriously, he tells her, "I love you. And stupid as it's gonna sound, I'll hurt anyone who tries to tell you you're not enough, for any reason." It sounds very frat boy-ish, he knows, but well. It's true.
Affection blossoms in her chest. How did she get so lucky to find Dylan? Her mouth twists up in a pleased smile she keeps hidden against his chest, clinging to him a little tighter. If she hadn't already proposed... she would do so now.
"You're sweet." It's a sweet sentiment and she feels all warm and fuzzy that Dylan will protect her, and not only that, he wants to. That's such a nice feeling.
"Or a giant frat boy." In a formerly fifty-year-old's body. Not that either changes the sentiment, nor does the fact that he knows full well that she can take care of herself. It's also male biological imperative for him to want to protect his loved ones -- or maybe it's him biological imperative, since he's lost so many of the people he has cared about.
That makes her glance up, lifting her hand to pat his cheek fondly, the corner of her mouth turning her smile into a smirk. "But not a deluded frat boy."
"Self-aware frat boy," he agrees, sagaciously and with a nod. A moment of pause follows, half so he can lean into her hand and half largely for effect, and then slowly, he starts, "Though, does that mean I can't play beer pong anymore?"
Since, you know, he's not deluded and all. Never mind the fact that the last time he played beer pong was Wanda's birthday party, months ago. He's mostly just being an ass at this point.
"I don't know. I beat Jack, and he's as fucking Wyatt Earp as you are, so." You know, fast hands and all. He's not entirely sure if she'll get that reference, though, and so he just shrugs, that said.
"Or we can try and find you one you actually like."
Not all of them taste like wet bread, after all. In fact, the first thing that comes to mind (Guinness Draught) actually tastes like iced coffee. That's an improvement, right?
She doesn't get the reference, bless her soul, but she smiles up at him, clearly head over heels. Today has been a trying day, this week as been trying, she's glad she has Dylan.
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But it does bring her full circle to something she probably should have brought up before the impromptu proposal, but it seems more pressing now that Dylan was gifted with newfound youth and vitality. It was on the tip of her tongue at May Day. "Do you want kids?"
The nerves turn to uncertainty because, as she would have mentioned when they'd first started having sex, she's sterile. If he wants a family, Kali will not be the one able to give it to him and she wants to make sure they're on the same page with that now that he's young enough to actually sort of keep up with children underfoot. Maybe the Agents could facilitate an adoption, but biologically... it's impossible.
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The answer is automatic, as he thinks of Jack, of Neal (of Daniel and Henley and Merritt, while they were here). They might not be his by blood, might not share his last name as is apparently biological imperative, according to her, but that doesn't change facts. They're his, even if he's old enough to pass for Jack's brother now, even if he hasn't outright named himself one of Neal's two dads, and that's good enough for him. He can more than live with that.
"I kind of gave up on the idea of having kids of my own a long time ago," he continues after a moment and in spite of the ferocious truth of his initial statement. "It was kind of -- of the price of admission of what I was doing. Of what I wanted to do." For his father.
"Jack and Neal are good enough for me." A beat, and then as if it's not clear, if she still thinks he's secretly upset by the idea that she can't give him children, he adds, "You're good enough for me."
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A slow smile brightens her expression and makes her eyes sparkle with contentment. Max had said something was different about her -- possibly that she was being civil for once and not a horrible person -- and Kali knows she owes a lot of that to Dylan for helping her be enough in her own skin.
She nods, words trapped behind the lump in her throat, speechless for once, and tucks her head against his chest again. This is more than enough. This is perfection.
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That in mind, he buries a hand in her hair and softly but seriously, he tells her, "I love you. And stupid as it's gonna sound, I'll hurt anyone who tries to tell you you're not enough, for any reason." It sounds very frat boy-ish, he knows, but well. It's true.
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"You're sweet." It's a sweet sentiment and she feels all warm and fuzzy that Dylan will protect her, and not only that, he wants to. That's such a nice feeling.
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She knows he knows what's up.
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Since, you know, he's not deluded and all. Never mind the fact that the last time he played beer pong was Wanda's birthday party, months ago. He's mostly just being an ass at this point.
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Seriously, it's gross.
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Not all of them taste like wet bread, after all. In fact, the first thing that comes to mind (Guinness Draught) actually tastes like iced coffee. That's an improvement, right?
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"Well, if you must." She clearly doesn't mind, just being picky for the sake of it now. Because she can.
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"...wanna make out?"