Work Text:
Slider got Ice’s email at 4:30 in the afternoon on a Tuesday. The message was short, all of it typed in the subject line as was Ice’s habit.
Is your Active-Duty Caregiving Certification still up to date?
Rather than typing out a response, Slider just called him, and Ice answered on the second ring.
“Hey, Ron,” Ice said. “You saw my email?”
“Aren’t caregiver placements a little bit below your paygrade?” Slider responded.
As a health precaution, all littles in the Navy had to have a caregiver while on active duty. For those who didn’t have one, the Navy would match them with a caregiver who had volunteered and completed the ADC certification program. Insufficient time spent dropping could have serious medical effects, so the regulations were carefully enforced.
“It’s for a member of the team Pete’s going to be training,” Ice said. Slider snorted. To say Ice got personally involved in Maverick’s assignments would be an understatement. “He has a request on file that he doesn’t want any of his peers that he’ll be working with regularly to know his designation, so it makes it a little tricky to find a placement for him.”
“Well, my certification’s up to date,” Ron said.
“You don’t have a little assigned to you already, do you?”
“No,” Slider said.
“Are you open to taking one on?” Ice asked. “It’d be a short-term thing. The training period for the mission is only two weeks. They may end up in Fightertown on leave for another couple weeks after that to recover.”
“Sure, we can try it out and see if we hit it off,” Slider said.
Not every caregiving placement meshed well. It wasn’t uncommon to have to try a couple different pairings to find one that worked well enough for the duration of the mission. Ice and Slider made plans quickly while they were on the call. The little—Lieutenant Floyd, Ron learned—would fly in two days before the rest of the squad so they could test out how well he got on with Slider and come up with a backup plan if it wasn’t going to work.
They had their first official sit-down in Warlock’s office to go over the essentials. Lieutenant Floyd introduced himself as Bob and handed over a sheet of all the information these meetings usually covered—age in headspace, allergies, emergency contacts, who was allowed to know Bob’s designation. Pete would need to know as Bob’s CO, and the information would be available to anyone in medical who ended up treating him. Other than that, Bob preferred not to disclose, which wasn’t uncommon for littles in the military. The sheet covered most everything, but Slider still ran through a few of his own questions to be sure Bob was comfortable with things like nicknames and being held.
They had their trial run that afternoon. Slider didn’t know what kinds of things Bob liked to do when he dropped, so he’d picked up a few basics to prepare. He’d expected Bob to bring over his favorites, but the WSO turned up empty handed. He was dressed appropriately enough though—sweatpants, an oversized tee shirt, and sneakers.
Based on CDC recommendations, the Navy required a minimum of 12 hours a week in headspace for littles on active duty. Bob had opted for the 3-3-6 schedule that Slider saw most often, which was two three-hour drops on weeknights and one six-hour drop over the weekend. Since Bob was staying in an on-base apartment and didn’t want his peers in the building to wonder why Admiral Kerner kept dropping by, they were meeting at Slider’s house. It worked out well since Slider preferred to be able put the littles he looked after to bed and check in on them in the morning before they both went to work to make sure they were transitioning out of headspace okay.
“Hey, Bob,” Slider greeted as the younger man climbed the porch steps. “No overnight bag?”
Bob reached into his pocket and pulled out a toothbrush in a Ziplock bag.
“I figured you wouldn’t mind if I used your soap,” he said, and Slider laughed.
“I don’t mind at all,” Slider said. “If this goes well tonight and we decide to keep it up, how an extra shaving kit and set of clothes over here for you so you can just head to work from here in the mornings?”
Bob nodded.
Once they were inside and the door was shut, Slider shifted topics.
“Dinner’s almost done, but we’ve got a few minutes to settle in,” he said. “Is there anything I can do or anything you like that helps you drop?”
Bob hesitated but shook his head.
“Alright,” Slider said. “How about a tour then?”
Slider took him through the house, and Bob left his toothbrush in the bathroom across from the guest bedroom when Slider pointed it out. The guestroom itself was fairly basic, but Slider had put out some toys and a set of dinosaur-patterned sheets after Ice had asked him to look after Bob. There was also a mattress protector under the sheets, but he wasn’t going to mention it if Bob didn’t.
Dinner was done around the same time he finished showing Bob around. He’d gone for kid-friendly with the meal, and it clearly had its intended effect. He could see something in Bob’s gaze softening as he watched Slider portion out chicken nuggets, macaroni and cheese, and apple slices.
“What would you like to drink, sweetheart?” Slider asked. “I’ve got apple juice, milk, water, and tea.”
“Juice please,” Bob said softly.
“Very polite, thank you, buddy,” Slider said as he poured the juice. He gave it to Bob in a sippy cup, but he could still tell the younger was focusing on being careful with it.
Dinner was quiet for the most part. Slider got Bob to talk a little bit about what kind of things he liked—Disney movies, Legos, soft toys, superheroes—but for the most part, he was focused on his food. Ketchup still ended up all over his face, but that was easily fixed with a wet paper towel.
“So would you rather have a bath first and then watch a movie before bed, or would you like to have a movie first and then a bath before bed?” Slider asked.
Bob considered it carefully.
“Bath then movie?” he said hesitantly.
“Excellent choice,” Slider said.
Bob hadn’t brought any pajamas with him, but his sweatpants were clean enough for the night. His tee shirt hadn’t made it through dinner unscathed though, so Slider set it aside to treat the ketchup stain once Bob was in bed and grabbed one of his own shirts for the younger man to sleep in. He didn’t want to overwhelm Bob with choices, so he grabbed two bath toys from the stash under the sink and added a squirt of lavender-scented bubble bath to the water.
“It’s not too hot or too cold, is it?” Slider asked as Bob got in, and the younger shook his head.
Bob was still too shy with him to really play, so they made quick work of the bath. He did cling to the bath toys a little bit though, and Slider had to promise that they’d still be there next time he came over. Once he was dry and dressed, they settled down on the couch in front of the TV.
“What should we watch?” Slider asked.
He’d done his best to sound casual, but Bob still went shy at the open-ended question. He pulled the throw blanket tighter around him with one hand, and the other inched toward his mouth. Slider was guessing he’d have to stock up on pacifiers if they made this a regular thing.
“I have Disney+,” Slider offered, clicking on the app. “Maybe something Disney?”
Bob nodded slowly, and his eyes flickered back to the screen.
“Hmm…” Slider said, dramatically thoughtful as he clicked through the options.
“Maybe… Incre’bles?” Bob suggested hesitantly after a moment of scrolling.
“Good idea,” Slider said, switching over to search the title. “I love The Incredibles.”
Bob looked very pleased that Slider had approved of his choice, and he settled back into the couch as the movie started to play, petting at the soft side of the throw blanket in his lap as he watched. Slider watched out of the corner of his eye as Bob fought sleep throughout the movie. His fingers quickly ended up in his mouth, and his blinks got slower the longer the movie went on. Once the credits were rolling, Slider coaxed Bob through brushing his teeth and tucked him into bed.
“Alright, buddy,” Slider said once Bob was settled under the covers. “I’m going to leave the bathroom light on so you can see if you need it tonight, and there’s that little airplane light in here just in case. I’ll leave my door cracked when I go to bed, and you can just come get me if you need anything, okay?”
“Okay,” Bob said. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
Slider didn’t stay up much longer. He treated the ketchup stain on Bob’s tee shirt, tossed it in with a load of his own laundry, cleaned up the kitchen, switched the clothes to the dryer, and headed to bed. He paused outside the guestroom as he walked down the hallway to his own bedroom, and the only sound was quiet breathing.
Bob was up early in the morning, and he seemed like he’d transitioned out of headspace fine. Slider made breakfast, and Bob helped himself to the coffee pot while they ate.
“I washed your tee shirt,” Slider said. “It’s folded on the couch.”
“Thanks,” Bob said. “Sorry if I was a little… awkward last night.”
“You were fine,” Slider said. “Most kids are shy with a new caregiver.”
“Yeah,” Bob agreed reluctantly. “I just never really like this whole ‘Navy-Assigned Daddy of the Week’ thing.”
“Whoa,” Slider said. “That’s a little heavy for an ADC assignment. I always consider it a win if I make it to uncle status.”
Bob didn’t quite laugh, but he snorted a little.
“Uncle status, huh?”
“It’s a high honor,” Slider said, raising his eyebrows over his coffee mug as he drank.
That afternoon, Warlock stopped by Slider’s office.
“How’d it go with the kid last night?” the rear admiral asked.
“Fine,” Slider said. “He was shy, but that’ll come with time. I’m comfortable taking on the ADC assignment if he is.”
Warlock dropped the form onto Slider’s desk.
“Lieutenant Floyd already signed off,” he said. “If you can sign this now, I’ll get you the documents to log the hours by the end of the day.”
Their next couple sessions went similarly to the trial run. Bob was sweet and polite, but he was shy, and Slider got the feeling that he wasn’t dropping as hard as he could. He didn’t press the issue though. Things couldn’t go any faster than Bob was comfortable with, and the little was warming up to him gradually. He’d started bringing actual pajamas and a few toys over, and he would gradually slide against the older man’s side when they watched movies.
In the end, there was no one thing Slider said or did to make Bob settle in. It went how these things always did. Slider kept showing up in whatever way Bob needed him, and eventually Bob was tired and felt safe enough.
Bob came over after a day at the beach with Maverick and the other Daggers, tired and a little sunburnt. He was still covered in sand, so Slider broke their usual routine to have bathtime first. Bob was already exhausted from spending the day in the sun, so the warm bath had him nearly asleep despite how early it was. He was pliant and loose-limbed as Slider got him dressed in his pajamas and rubbed after-sun lotion onto his face.
“Now we’re comfy, right, buddy?” Slider said. “You ready for some dinner?”
Bob just whined in response. Normally, he fed himself fairly well, if a little messily. Today, he wouldn’t even pick up his fork. Slider ended up pulling his own chair around to be right beside Bob so he could feed him, but Bob still refused to take more than a couple bites.
“Alright, I think we’re too sleepy for dinner,” Slider finally conceded when Bob set his big, tearful eyes on him for trying to coax another bite of carrots into his mouth. “Let’s try a bottle.”
Slider had never given Bob a bottle before, but he’d stocked formula in the kitchen based on the age range Bob fell into. He wasn’t going to push it if Bob rejected it, but he hadn’t eaten nearly enough at dinner, and it would be worth a try if Slider could get some extra calories into him.
He got Bob comfortable on the couch with Toy Story on the TV first, then went to the kitchen to mix up a bottle. Once it was ready, he joined Bob on the couch, and the little let himself be manhandled to rest against the arm of the couch and Slider’s chest. Bob’s eyes stayed glued to the TV as Slider adjusted the blanket he was cuddled under.
“Alright, sweetheart, think you can work on this for me while we watch the movie?” Slider asked, bumping the nipple of the bottle against Bob’s bottom lip.
Bob latched on without looking away from the screen, making no attempt to hold the bottle for himself. He didn’t finish the bottle, but he drank lazily for the first half hour of the movie, and Slider was satisfied that he wouldn’t be going to bed hungry. Slider set the bottle on the end table once it was clear Bob wasn’t going to drink anymore, and Bob dozed off still splayed across Slider’s lap.
Slider let the movie play all the way through before he tried to move. Bob stayed mostly asleep as the older man picked him up, but he whined unhappily and cracked his eyes open a sliver when Slider set him on the bathroom counter.
“Shh, it’s okay, buddy,” Slider whispered. “We just need to brush your teeth, alright? Then we’ll get you to bed.”
Still clearly unhappy to have been woken up, Bob reluctantly opened his mouth. Slider kept one hand on the nape of Bob’s neck to keep his head steady and brushed his teeth for him with the other. Getting Bob to spit and rinse was a bit of an endeavor, but Slider managed and was finally able to carry him off to bed. Bob was fast asleep before Slider had the nightlight turned on.
Just before two in the morning, Slider woke to a finger poking his shoulder. He groaned, still half asleep for a second, and the poking moved to his cheekbone.
“Unca Si.”
Slider finally cracked his eyes open and saw Bob standing beside his bed. Bob was squinting, missing his glasses, and he had three of the fingers on his left hand in his mouth.
“Hey, bud, what’s going on?” Slider asked groggily.
“Wet,” Bob said.
“That’s alright,” Slider said. He flipped on the lamp and sat up in bed. “That’s an easy fix, buddy.”
Bob always wore pullups at Slider’s house, but he hadn’t had many accidents. He’d soaked through his pullup this time though, so Slider quickly stripped the bed, got the sheets and mattress protector going in the washer, and gave Bob a quick bath to clean up.
“How about a diaper for the rest of tonight, just to be safe?” Slider asked as he got Bob out of the tub.
Bob hesitated for a second and then nodded. Slider got him dressed quickly, careful not to make a big deal out of it. For the sake of getting Bob back to bed before he was wide awake, Slider opted to let him sleep in the diaper and a big tee shirt instead of hunting down his spare pajamas.
“Want to sleep in my bed?” Slider asked. “We can fix yours in the morning.”
“Okay,” Bob agreed.
They were settled back into bed before 2:30, and Bob fell asleep quickly, cuddled against Slider’s side.
Bob dropped easier after that. He was still a shy, sweet little boy, but he was more playful too. He wasn’t afraid to squirt Slider with his bath toys or make a mess with his toys in the living room floor. He liked blocks and toy cars and trying to eat Playdough when Slider wasn’t looking. Slider ordered a pack of pacifiers once Bob’s oral fixation was obvious, and soon it seemed like there was a pacifier on every surface in his house.
The improved quality of his drops was reflected in Bob’s work too. He was flying better than ever, and Slider was sure the WSO would be chosen for the mission. The team as a whole seemed to be meshing better too since Pete’s day at the beach.
A few days after the first night Bob dropped hard, Ice pulled Slider out of a meeting. There’d been no warning, and he offered no explanation to the assorted admirals in the room. It was clear from the look on his face that it was not good news, but Ice insisted on finding an empty room to speak in so they wouldn’t be overheard. Once the door was shut, he didn’t mince words.
“There was a bird strike during training today, and Lieutenants Floyd and Trace had to eject,” Ice said.
“Shit,” Slider said. His adrenaline was dumping immediately, and he could already feel his instincts going haywire. He had to get to Bob. He needed to take care of the baby. “Shit, Ice.”
“He’s okay, Ron,” Ice said firmly. “Minor injuries—bumps and bruises for him and Lieutenant Trace. They took them to the base hospital just to be safe, but they should be ready to be released by tonight.”
Slider was already moving. He needed to get to the hospital and look after Bob. Ice didn’t let him get far though.
“Listen, Sli,” Ice said. “Because Bob doesn’t disclose his designation, no one outside of med staff is allowed to see him before you get there and give the go-ahead. His squad is just being told that he’s not allowed visitors yet. Pete called and said they’re worried that Bob is more seriously injured because they were already allowed back to see Trace.”
The policy was in place to protect Bob’s privacy. He didn’t want his team to know his designation, and accidents like this were extremely likely to cause a drop. Being reminded of that just made Slider’s anxiety worse though. Bob wasn’t always as tiny as he’d been after the beach day, but he’d been dropping so small lately, and he’d just gotten comfortable with Slider. He’d be terrified if he was little and alone in the hospital with all those strangers.
“I can handle that,” Slider said.
“You’ll want to go in through a side door so you don’t run into them all in the waiting room,” Ice said. “Do you need someone to drive you?”
Slider shook his head. That was the good thing about caregiver instincts. Even when his brain panicked, his body didn’t. There was a hurt little who needed him, and his body moved on autopilot to get to him. He drove fast but safely, and his hands were steady on the wheel. He went into the hospital through a back entrance, found the closest desk, and was in Bob’s hospital room within fifteen minutes of being informed of the accident.
True to Ice’s word, Bob’s injuries were minor. He had some bad bruises—especially across his torso from the parachute—and a couple of shallow scrapes from hitting the ground. The doctor reassured Slider that while a bad headache was to be expected from being jarred so roughly, there were no signs of a concussion. And, although Slider thought he looked absolutely tiny in that hospital bed, Bob thankfully hadn’t dropped.
“So your squad is worried about you,” Slider said once the doctor had left them alone. “They were allowed back to see Trace already but not you, so they’re think you’re hurt worse. Do you feel up to seeing them?”
“Yeah,” Bob said. “My head hurts, and I know I’m going to be sore once the pain meds wear off, but I really am fine.”
“Okay,” Slider said. “Here’s what we can do then. I’ll tell them the holdup was due to a problem with your emergency contact paperwork, but we’ve got it sorted now, so they’re allowed back to see you.”
“And you think they’ll buy that?”
“Sweetheart, I think they’re going to be too relieved that you’re okay to question anything I say,” Slider said. “I won’t hang around while they’re in here, but the nurses are going to kick them out as soon as visiting hours end. Then I’ll come back in, and we can get you discharged and head home. But I’m not going to leave the hospital, okay? If you need me, I can be right back in here. How does all of that sound?”
“Good,” Bob said. “Can go home with you after? I know tonight’s not on our schedule, but I’m going to need—”
“Of course,” Slider said. “You don’t even have to ask, buddy. I’m going to need you there for my sake too.”
Bob looked surprised by that.
“I scared you?” he asked.
“Ice came and got me himself, so I knew it couldn’t be anything good,” Slider said. “And when he said you had to eject—”
“Sorry,” Bob said.
“Don’t be sorry,” Slider said. “We both know what line of work we’re in, yeah?”
Slider went to get Maverick and his students from Phoenix’s room before they could work up too much of a panic. Like he’d predicted, none of them questioned his explanation of the delay. He made himself scarce after that so no one would wonder why he was hanging around, but he was careful not to go far, and he told two of the nurses where he would be in case Bob needed him. Visiting hours ended an hour and a half later, and Slider was back in Bob’s room as soon as he was sure Mitchell’s students were gone.
“Still doing okay?” he asked. Bob looked tired, but he nodded. “Alright, let’s figure out what we need to do to get you out of here.”
One of Bob’s nurses helped them stagger Bob and Natasha’s release times so the pilot wouldn’t see Slider taking Bob home. Phoenix was released first, and Slider hid in the bathroom off of Bob’s room when she stopped by to check on her WSO before she left. He tried not to eavesdrop, but it was hard not to overhear their conversation.
“You sure you’re good, Bobby?” Phoenix asked. “Rooster’s outside to pick me up. We could hang around a little while and drive you too.”
“That’s okay,” Bob said. “I’m not sure when exactly I’m leaving, but I’ve already got somebody on the way to get me, and I’d hate to have drug him out here for nothing.”
There was a pause, like Phoenix was nodding.
“If you’re sure,” she said. “Call me if your ride falls through, alright? I’ll make Bradley turn around.”
“I will,” Bob promised. “Thanks, Phoenix.”
“Of course,” she said, and Slider could hear her tap a goodbye against the bed. “I’ll see you back at work. Take care of yourself, and call if you need something.”
Once Natasha was gone and the last of Bob’s discharge paperwork was completed, Slider went down to pull his truck around. A nurse brought Bob out in a wheelchair, but Slider insisted on being the one to help him into the truck. She disappeared back inside once he was settled, and Slider took advantage of the privacy to fuss over Bob and fasten his seatbelt for him.
“You can be little now if you need to,” Slider said quietly. “It’s just us, buddy.”
Bob shook his head immediately.
“Don’t have a diaper on,” he mumbled. “Gonna be too small, Sli.”
“That’s okay,” Slider said. “No such thing as too small, right? If you have an accident, we’ll just clean it up. I won’t be mad at all, okay?”
Bob just shook his head again, so Slider just got in and focused on getting them home as quickly as possible. He could see Bob fighting it throughout the drive though. His head was drooping against the window, and his fingers kept hovering against his lips. Once they made it to the house, Slider quickly hurried around the truck to help him out before Bob could try to do it by himself.
“Unca Si,” Bob said as Slider unbuckled his seatbelt. Bob turned towards him but made no move to get out of the truck.
“Yeah?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, Bob just leaned his head forward against Slider’s shoulder and whimpered a little. The sound broke Slider’s heart, and he quickly gathered Bob into his arms and made for the door.
“I know, sweet boy,” he murmured as they moved. “You’re just so tired, huh? You had a hard day.”
Once they were inside, Slider followed the same routine he had when Bob had gone tiny after the beach day. Still holding the little with one arm, he gathered up Bob’s favorite pajamas, bath toys, and bubble bath. Then, he set Bob on the toilet lid so he could get the water started.
“Alright, let’s get you undressed,” Slider said while the tub filled.
Bob didn’t do much to help, but he was pliant and let Slider strip him out of his clothes without fussing. Once he stood the step into the tub, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, and Slider realized it was the first look he’d had of the bruises all over his torso. There were already dark stripes where the parachute harness had dug into him and larger splotches and scrapes from hitting the ground. The sight made Bob’s bottom lip wobble, but he didn’t cry.
“I’ve got some Arnica in the medicine cabinet,” Slider said once Bob was settled in the tub. “We’ll put that on your bruises, and it’ll help them get better faster.”
Bob was quiet throughout the bath. Like the first night he came to Slider’s, he held onto the bath toys the whole time, but he didn’t actually play with them. The warm water would help with the soreness, so Slider took his time, careful to be gentle. Once the water started to go cold, Slider got the little out of the tub, dried off, covered in bruise cream, and into his pajamas. He carried Bob around the kitchen with him as he mixed a bottle and then got them both settled on the couch with Bluey on the TV. Bob must have been hungrier this time though, because he finished the bottle quickly, one hand fisted in Slider’s sleeve the entire time.
“I’m sorry that happened to you today,” Slider said quietly once the bottle was empty. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Scary,” Bob whispered after a pause. It was the first thing he’d said since they’d gotten inside.
“I bet it was scary,” Slider agreed. “You did a really good job though. You and Phoenix handled everything just right. You did exactly what you were supposed to.”
“I fly,” Bob mumbled.
“That’s right,” Slider said. “You’re really good flyer.”
Bob smiled a little at that.
“M’ana?” he suggested when the episode of Bluey ended.
“Sure, sweetheart.”
Bob seemed content to lie on the couch and watch movies for the rest of the night, and Slider, given the circumstances, had no problem with the extra screentime. After Moana, they both dozed off halfway through Cars, and Slider woke up with the credit rolling. Bob was still leaning heavily on his chest, and he barely stirred as Slider carried him back to his room and got him into a fresh diaper. Once Slider tried to put him in bed though, he squinted his eyes open and started wiggling unhappily.
“What’s the matter, bud?” Slider whispered. Bob just whined in response. “You want to stay in my room again?”
Bob settled at that.
“Just for tonight, okay?” Slider said, picking him back up. “I know I snore, and you need your rest.”
The next morning was the first time Slider had seen Bob struggle with transitioning between headspaces. He seemed mostly big, and he went through his morning routine without any help or prompting, but he was still mostly nonverbal. Slider let him have his quiet time while they got ready, but over breakfast, he quizzed him on Navy trivia until he was confident Bob was firmly big.
“Sorry,” Bob mumbled just before they were ready to leave.
“Don’t be sorry,” Slider said. “I know you want to be on this mission, but if you need to take a sick day today, we can do that. Your safety comes first, and that was no small shakeup yesterday.”
“I’m okay,” Bob promised. “I’m not really a big talker most of the time, so sometimes when I go quiet like that, it kind of… lingers.”
“And you’re sure you’re okay to fly today?”
Bob nodded.
Thankfully, they made it through the rest of training without anymore major issues. Bob was chosen for the mission—he was the best, of course he was chosen. Slider had known he would be, but it still made him anxious. He wasn’t just anxious for Bob though. Pete had made the mission potentially survivable, but it still wasn’t much better than a suicide run, and Slider knew three of the aviators personally.
He was onboard the day that they flew. If any of Daggers caught a glimpse of him, he would be just another officer in the command room. No one spared his presence a second glance, but Slider was still careful to look professional. His kept his features schooled, and he didn’t let his eyes linger on Phoenix and Bob as they took off. It helped him stay calm to remember that he’d already scouted out a few locations on the ship and scripted cover stories to excuse Bob disappearing for a few hours if things went badly.
The mission was a shitshow, of course. Mav and Rooster both scared the shit out of everyone, but eventually, they had everyone back onboard and in one piece. Slider was able to check in with Bob as they debriefed, and he was doing well, probably better than Slider honestly.
When they got back to Fightertown, the Daggers wanted to celebrate together, and Bob went with them happily. He and Slider had already planned on catching up on hours that weekend. The Daggers spent a solid two days together, and the next morning, Slider found that Bob had let himself in with his key at some point during the night and slept on the couch.
“You better be glad I didn’t think you were a burglar,” Slider said once Bob started to wake up.
Bob just grinned in response. He looked like he was a little bit between headspaces. He’d slept in his jeans and tee shirt, and he made no effort to move from where he was stretched out across the couch.
“You want some breakfast?” Slider offered, still feeling out where Bob was at, and the younger nodded. “What sounds good?”
Bob smacked his lips as he considered it.
“Pancakes, Uncle Sli?” he said after a thoughtful moment.
Slider smiled softly.
“Coming right up, sweetheart.”