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Between the two of them, Hal and Snake had plenty to be proud of. Killing warlords. Exposing government corruption. Killing the same warlord again. Preventing Y2K, though history would never know it. History wouldn’t know half of their accomplishments, and they were unambiguously okay with that, just as long as those accomplishments could make the world safer for those they’d leave behind.
Snake ducked into the bachelor apartment they were currently lurking in and murmured “hello” to his partner, who was fretting around the kitchen area. They had no highchair, so the third member of their family was sat up at their microscopic excuse for a dinner table on a throne-like structure of whatever they could find. He brushed Sunny on the nose and smiled when her eyes crossed. She would grow up to be brighter than the both of them combined, but for now, she was wholly dependent on them.
He nudged Hal on the cheek - the gentle motions of greeting his family soothed him back into the world of humans. Until the sharpness of speech dulled away, he navigated interactions with them with the back of his hand. The day had belonged to a job, and it was now late evening. He reached past Hal into the cupboard and grabbed two cookies wrapped in plastic.
“Rations? Really?”
He grumbled. “Better than that cup of salt and malnutrition you call ramen.”
“Please! They’re for a complex palette.”
He snarked through a mouthful of protein and chocolate. “‘Complex?’”
“Crack an egg in it and you’ve got a fully-balanced meal. They’re the dinner of choice for programmers everywhere!”
He nodded towards the baby. “What about for Miss Picky Eater?”
Hal groaned. “I hadn’t asked her yet.”
She was approaching two years of age. Vitamins were important. So was texture. So, too, was communication. Sunny was taking her sweet time with language and hadn’t gotten out more than a few syllables in a row, though they could tell she understood them. Her eyes were patient, as if she knew her guardians were talking about her.
“Why don’t you ask now? She’s listening.”
Sunny had the curious ability to turn both of the grown men into over-enunciating puppies. Hal held a cup of noodles high enough for her to plainly see, then pointed at Snake’s hand. “Ramen? Or cookies? Huh? What do you want for dinner, little bug?”
Her huge brown eyes rolled from face to face. “Eh.”
“See, she doesn’t care.” Snake started to tear into the second ration and handed a little piece to the grasping child. At the very least she could play with it.
“I swear she’s been talkative today; you just weren’t around for it.”
“ You were talkative today.” He rubbed the back of his neck and thought of the buzzing Codec. “Sure you weren’t having a rousing conversation with yourself?”
He pouted and put his attention back to the fridge. “Some old rice, a bit of mayonnaise, packet of…some kind of sauce. Snake, what is this?”
“From that restaurant. Last week, the one with the paper hats.”
“Ah, right. Ugh, there’s not much to choose from. We’ll need to send you back out on a grocery-retrieval mission, Snake.”
“No can do, Commander.” Snake was already too comfortable to even think about being seen by a grocery clerk. “Maybe tomorrow.”
Shuffling ingredients as if he was a clerk himself, Hal held onto the topic of talking. “She almost said ‘Dad.’ Couldn’t seem to find a way to end it, though, so it came out like ‘Dapa.’”
“DARPA,” Snake grinned nostalgically at the baby. “Are you gonna be the next DARPA chief, baby sunshine?”
Sunny’s mouth hung open, almost like she was offended he’d suggest such a thing. Then she popped her fist in it - the one not containing the bit of cookie.
Hal sighed. “I guess we could put a bit of everything together, hope for the best.”
“Yeah?” Snake prodded. “We could make some omurice. What do you say to that?”
She crackled and clicked and ultimately produced a sound like “ick.”
He gestured. “You heard the lady.”
“I stress again, I have no idea how old this rice is.”
“It’s probably fine. It’s one of those things.”
“No, ramen is one of those things. Rations are one of those things. Think about it, even eggs are one of those things. They’re tightly-packaged and not full of moisture like rice is. Cooked meals can only-”
“Egg.”
Snake looked to Hal, whose eyes were wild. “Oh my God.”
“She said - that was,” he stumbled, heart pounding harder than danger and nicotine combined, “That was a-a word, right?”
“Yes she did!”
She gurgled insistently. “Egguuuu.”
“She said ‘egg!’” He put his hands on his knees. “Do you want an egg for dinner, Sunny?”
“There’s gotta be a pan or something; I’ll scramble some up right now.”
“Can babies even eat scrambled eggs? Oh my God, Snake.”
“Looks like you’ll finally have someone else to gossip with.”
Hal giggled, too giddy for comebacks. Snake got started on the eggs, and they had a simple breakfast for dinner, seated on either side of a tiny table with their pride between the two of them.