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Something that may seem small in the cleaners' schedule was that every single morning, without fail, for the months that Jabber had been there, Zanka would wake him up in the morning. So, needless to say, when he wakes up from something that isn't a nightmare, but rather from light entering the room, without his girlfriend, he is awfully confused.
But of course, as expected, he realizes that this is a lovely opportunity. He gets out of the get and puts a shirt on, knowing that the cleaners (Zanka) act Victorian anytime he leaves appropriate areas without a shirt. He walks out to Zanka's room, and she is passed out. Arms stretched over her head, mouth hanging half-open, and a pool of drool on her pillow.
Walking up to his sleeping girlfriend, he sees Lamby jammed between her knees, and carefully wriggles it out, holding it in one of his arms. He stares at her in silence for a moment. She’s really pretty all the time, but she looks different when she's sleeping, and it makes him want to cannibalize her out of cuteness aggression. He fights the urge to shake her face and walks out of the room, mildly surprised that he didn't wake her up with his moving.
Once he gets most of the way down the hall, he lets himself start to giggle. He passes by his room to grab his coin purse and walks back through the common rooms.
“Mr. Jabber! Amo didn’t think you would be awake this early!” He pauses in his place at the sweet voice and turns to it, with a smile on his face.
“Wassup, dude!” He turns and puts the coin purse in his pj’s pocket.
He holds a hand out, and when Amo looks down at him confusedly and back at him, he laughs. Putting Lamby in his pocket, he holds the other hand out and, carefully, places hers in it.
Gently, he has a hold of her wrist, and he dabs her up, and Amo giggles at the loud clap at the end. He lets it go and picks Lamby back up, smiling at her.
“That's a handshake that.. Most cleaners don't do it because they are lame, but I do it, cause i'm cool as hell, you know what I'm saying, Amo?”
She laughs softly and nods her head at him.
"Amo remembers how Ms. Zanka reacts to it."
The moment in question was Zanka glaring at him as if she wished she could kill him, and him whining at her.
"Soooo Amo, I got a project I wanna do, wanna hang out some?"
Amo glances at the stuffed animal in Jabber's hand and up at him, head tilted slightly.
"Amo doesn't roam like people in her nest, but if Mr. Jabber wants to talk, then that's ok."
Jabber scrunches his eyebrows.
"If ya don't want to have me there, I ain't got a problem with it."
Amo shakes her head and grabs Jabber's free wrist, making him laugh slightly as he gets dragged to her room.
The room isn't large, like a lot of the other cleaners' rooms are. The door closes behind him, and he sits on the ground. He sees a small bed in the corner of the room, decorations hang on the walls, and fairy lights go across the ceiling in little groups, and there is a quite comfortable rug underneath him. She sits on the floor opposite him and mimics his cross-legged sitting.
“So, what is Mr. Jabber doing?”
He places the coin purse on the ground, “Amo, do ya have a sewing kit?”
Nodding her head, she crawls over to her dresser and takes out a black box, placing it in front of Jabber and smiling.
“Sometimes when people are stressed, heavy things comfort them. I'm planning on putting some coins in Lamby, so she's heavier.” He opens the kit, seeing that all of the thread is embroidery thread, he smiles softly and grabs a pair of scissors.
“Isn't that Ms. Zanka’s toy, though? Amo thought we weren't supposed to touch stuff that isn't ours.”
Opening the back of Lamby, he takes out some of the stuffing, wishing he had gotten new to replace it, he starts putting the coins in it.
“Ehhhh. What's hers is mine, and what's mine is hers, type ya know?”
It doesn't take him long to make the toy significantly heavier, but still fluffy enough that you can only tell if you try to make biscuits on it. He picks up a thing of thread and a needle and works on closing the hole he made.
“Amo heard that's what married people do.”
He finishes and ties the final knot, smiling and lowering himself as if he is telling top-secret information.
“Wanna know something neat?” He whispers to her, and he sees how her eyes light up, and watches as she starts nodding, messy hair flopping with the movement.
“Zanka and I are married. Don't tell Enjin, though, he’ll get mad.” It was a last-minute decision they made on Zanka’s eighteenth birthday; they hadn't talked about it since, probably because the hangover Zanka had the next day made her royally upset.
Amo smiles, teeth bared, and giggles.
“Don't worry, Amo doesn't like Mr. Enjin, your secrets safe with her!”
Jabber is tempted to tease her over the fact that he’s seen her go to enjin on the rare nights her mom was out, tear streaked face that apparently instantly made their beef pause until morning.
He smiles, taking a breath and looking off to the side, a motion that Amo interprets as him being bored, and she doesn't want Jabber to leave!
“Amo notices your Hello Kitty pants; she thinks they are cute.”
Glancing over at her, he laughs.
“Why, thank you, Ms. Amo, you are just so sweet,” He says dramatically, tossing his dreads over his shoulder.
“August made Amo a.. Um adjustable Hello Kitty skirt, if you want to try it?”
His eyebrow quirks at that.
“And what would make you think that?”
“When friends hang out, they play dress-up. Amo wants Mr. Jabber to be her friend; Amo thought Mr. Jabber liked Hello Kitty.”
That's adorable.
“Fuck it, hell yeah, where we at!”
Amos's eyes fill with excitement, and she stands, brushing nonexistent dust off her sleep shorts and digging through her closet before taking it out and bringing it to Jabber. He grabs it with an amused look and steps into the bathroom, talking to her through the door.
“Yo princess, you wanna try on my pajama pants? Hell, I’ll let ya wear my little pride month demon shirt if ya wanna,”
“Does Mr. Jabber have a shirt of Amos he wants to try on to trade?”
He slips the skirt on and adjusts the waist to fit him rather than a fifteen-year-old girl.
“Ehh, pick something pretty out for me.”
He hears muttering before a knock on the door. He opens it, and Amo is covering her eyes and handing him a white bundle of fabric.
Picking it up, he retreats and puts it on.
“Damn, Amo, you have good taste!” It doesn’t fit him perfectly, looking more like a crop-top, but it's a white button-up blouse with little pink flowers embroidered on it. He wonders why she doesn't have perfectly fitting clothes like the other cleaners.
He walks out and pops his hip, the pink fabric of the skirt swaying with the motion, and Amo smiles as she's handed the bundle of Jabber's old clothes.
“Mr. Jabber, you look so pretty! You could be a princess like that!”
He makes a vause dancing motion that draws a giggle out of her. Amo then takes the fabric and takes her spot in the bathroom, and Jabber asks his question.
“Why’da have adjustable stuff? I’ve only heard August makin’ that for like Zanka's little chest thing.”
He can hear her make a sound, probably slipping on the too-large pants.
“Ms. August is not allowed to take Amo’s measurements without her permission. Amo has a lock on her door and is allowed to use it to keep who she wants out, even other cleaners! Ms. August finds a way with what they have.”
The honorific makes Jabber raise an eyebrow; he didn't know August got down and dirty like that.
“Fuh yeah! Girl, one day imma take you to town, and we're gonna get you a gun and some pepper spray. Ms. Blicky with the sticky can teach ya.”
“Or Ms. Zanka could! Amo likes when she teaches her things,”
Amo opens the door, and everything is adorably oversized on her; she had the drawstrings tied into a bow at the front of her pants.
He smiles and then raises an eyebrow.
“Zanka knows how to use a gun?”
Amo nods and moves back to where she was sitting, motioning for Jabber to join her and gently rocking herself side to side.
“Mhm! Ms. Zanka is scary. Amo once watched her tear apart a dummy; she shot it so many times it felt like Amo’s ears were gonna explode! Then she kept hitting it with Assistaff-”
“Fucking hell! Bro, wait- hold on, Amo, you have really pretty hair, you gave me a pretty outfit, trade for brushing and princess-ifying you?”
Amo looks as if she just got a winning lottery ticket.
“Amo also heard that friends do that! Does Mr. Jabber know how to make a pretty braid?”
“Fuh yeah! I went through boy boot-camp a while back by Ms. Blicky with the sticky, I’m rusty on my uhhhh french braid, can I work on it?”
She nods and practically scurries over to the bathroom, coming back with a basket of hair products and tools, and sits properly criss-cross in front of him. He picks up the brush and detangler and thinks about all the shitty teen movies with sleepovers in them, figuring they would be a good source of this.
"Soooo how's it going with Rudo?" He sees how Amos's back straightens at the mention, and sees how her posture dips a little after a few moments.
"That's a big conversation, and Amo doesn't know if Mr. Jabber wants that."
He hums in consideration, spraying a knot with the detangler and starting to gently work on it before he talks again.
"I want to hear what ya want to tell me, so are ya wanting to talk about him?" He figures that immediately offering to kill him may be a bad idea, so he goes slowly.
Amo heaves in a breath.
"Amo is.. confused. She loves love. Amo hopes that when people talk about her, she is the girl who loves love! But it feels kind of scary to Amo. She can't quite place- no Amo knows but, Amo doesn't want to have to do stuff like.. the whole ritual thing. It makes her feel gross, andAmoo doesn't want to feel gross with Rudo! Amo wants Rudo to think shes pretty but-"
"Hold on, one moment, is Mister dead?"
He pauses his work to ask and feels how Amo freezes.
"Yes. Amo thinks that she shouldn't have done it. Amo thinks Mister should- Amo is so confused. Amo feels like Mister was horrible, but also feels.. like that was the love thing she loves so much. Amo hates that she sometimes misses him, because it was wrong! He shouldn't have done it. But she sometimes wants him to come back." Her voice sounds broken and overwhelmed, and he nods carefully as he works calming strokes through her hair.
"Amo, the best case scenario for a man- boy like that is that he spends the rest of his life locked in solitary confinement. Princess, if I ever met that man, I have a whole list of things I'd do for I granted him the mercy of death."
Realizing he got off track, he clears his throat and starts again.
"Which I ain't gonna get into cause that ain't right. Anyways, it's normal to feel like you miss them, but ya also gotta understand that what happened isn't right and if something like that happens again, no matter how small it feels, tell someone. You're supposed to choose what happens and when ya do stuff, hell, if that Rudo boy even holds your hand without talking to ya about it first, punch him. Ya are important, and ya need to take yer time. There is no right time for anything, just do what feels right, and if they got an issue, they can fuck right on off!"
Jabber is mildly surprised at himself. Before all the stuff with Zanka, he- no, before he joined the cleaners, he hardly knew shit about consent or boundaries.
"But Amo doesn't want to lose him because she's too slow."
He returns to brushing her hair and starts to separate it into segments.
"Kiddo, if that becomes a problem, he ain't worth your damn time. I once made a massive fuck-up, and Zanka put me in time out for like a month, but I love her, and I understood that what I did was wrong, so I waited and said sorry to her."
"What did Mr. Jabber do?"
Jabber tenses ever so slightly and shakes his head as he starts to assemble the braid.
"Don't worry about that; what matters is that Zanka and Zanka worked through it. We communicated, and it turned out fine."
He still feels guilty sometimes, but if Zanka says he's ok, then he has to trust that she wouldn't lie about not being mad at him- she would, but if she doesn't talk about her being mad about something that happened like a year ago! Is that even Jabber's prob- yes, it is, Zanka is his problem, that's ok, they'll work through it.
"That's good. If you hurt Ms. Zanka like how he had hurt Amo, Amo will kill you. Ms. Zanka is very nice."
"Bro, do you know how much character development I've had in the past year alone? Dude, I never felt like I needed to take care of someone before Zanka, and that shit was horrifying! No. I think if I liked, did something sh didint want me to, I would kill myself before you got to me-"
Amo giggles at that, and he can't help himself from joining. He ties off the braid with a hair tie with an orange bow attached, and stands.
"Mr. Jabber is very funny!" He grins and offers her a hand up.
She walks over to a mirror and smiles at how it looks, tilting her head before shaking it, the braid flopping back and forth.
"Amo looks bald with her hair back like this."
Jabber laughs in shock at her statement. He didn't think her not having bangs was a bad thing, and if the look on her face was anything to go by, she didn't mind either.
"Have ya eaten breakfast?"
Amo turns to him and pouts, shaking her head and going over to her dresser.
"Mr. Jabber made a mess, and Amo will clean before leaving."
Raffling through it for a second, she grabs a protein bar and throws it to Jabber, picking one up for herself. Sometimes the world felt really scary, and leaving her nest to find food only made her feel worse. Ms. Zanka once said it was like 'being a fish in a barrel,' for if a bad person came through, and her mama always said it was some weird combination of letters she never remembered.
"I'll pick up the hair stuff?"
"Clean Amos brush for her."
Amo finds her broom and dustpan, and Jabber picks up the bucket, walking to the bathroom and turning on the sink, holding the brush under cool water while he shouts out.
“Hey Amo, ya said something earlier about wanting Rudo to think yer pretty, was there more on that ya wanted to say?”
“It's like Amo wants to be wanted, but Amos is also scared of it, like she doesn't want it because if she's wanted, she might hurt.”
She shouts back, and Jabber nods his head as he takes the hair out of the bristles.
“That's back to the whole wait till you feel like you're ready and tell him when something feels wrong.”
She makes a noise that's between a laugh and a bark.
“Amo thinks Mr. Jabber knows that's hard to do.”
“Yeah, it sucks, but you kinda gotta if something's gonna work out.”
He hears a displeased hum, and he puts the basket away.
After a moment, he walks back out and sees the craft things had been put away, and she was currently attempting to sweep little bits of paper off her rug.
"What are ya doing, Amo?"
"Cleaning," Her voice is sweet, but her eyebrows are ruffled slightly from not being able to get the paper off.
He walks up and uses his foot to get the paper off the rug, then motions for Amo to try it again.
"Whoa!" Her eyes brighten, and he laughs softly.
He watches her and notices that even after the paper is gone, she keeps going.
"What are ya doing?"
"Amo thinks that when the carpet thingy is all ruffled, it's like a puppy's fur being pet the wrong way! Amo wants to help the puppy and fix its fur."
Looking from it to her, he leans back and nods.
"You do know that's a shag rug? Meant to be all frazzled?"
"She doesn't like it."
Nodding again, a teasing grin falls on his face.
"So, puppies ok with being stepped on? We step on puppies in this house?"
She shakes her head incredulously.
"It's not a real doggy! It knows it's supposed to be used like it is."
A silence falls over them, and Jabber is oddly content with it; he smiles. Once she seems to be done, putting the broom back in the corner, she puts her hands on her hips and looks proud of herself.
"All clean! Mr. Jabber still wants food?"
For just a moment, he worries about the whole going into the cleaners in a skirt, but he brushes it away. He used to be a raider, and Gris has worn socks and sandals; worse fashion crimes have been committed.
"Yeah!”
He grabs his things and puts them in the pockets of his skirt, and they walk out without much of a fuss, going through the line. Amo grabs a few pancakes and some strawberries, Jabber picks up some sausage and moves to get out of line, and is interrupted by her poking his side.
“Mr. Jabber needs to get a fruit; they are how you grow big and strong!”
He lets out an exaggerated sigh and picks up a container of blueberries, and they head to the corner table.
“What's Amos's favorite berry, or like your favorite fruit?”
Amo picks up a fork and starts to cut her pancakes into pieces, humming as she scrunches her eyebrows in thought.
“Amo used to get little bundles of fruits from Mister; she likes the little basket-shaped ones. The black ones hurt Amo’s teeth, but she used to make a little juice thingy from it; she really likes the red ones!”
He swallows the last bite of his food, and he nods.
“Hey, Amo.”
Amo tilts her head at him, a smile on his face as she hums questioningly.
“Hey Amo, Amo, Amo, Amo, Amo, guess what, guess what!” His face splits into a grin, and he pokes her side with every word, drawing giggles out of her.
“W-what!” She laughs, her words messed up slightly from being out of breath.
He glanced down at her plate and saw she was mostly done, and picked her up, hands secure under her arms, and started to shake her in the air.
“yer laughing so much!” He moves back and forth and stops, looking at her with deadly seriousness.
“Amo.. I think you have a bad case of the giggles. Do you know what we have to do to fix this.?”
Her eyes widen, and she gasps dramatically.
“What!”
“We gotta get them all out!” He tightens his hold and spins them in circles, and it seems his treatment is working, the sound of laughter from both of them filling the room.
Zanka stands at the doorway of the room, unnoticed by the two, just watching. She can't help but smile that grows on her face at the sight.
She didn't think Jabber and Amo would get along. Sighing contentedly, he leans against the doorframe. Jabber would be a good dad, playing with Amo like this. It takes her a few seconds to realize what she had just thought, and it makes her physically flinch back a little. What the hell? What had gotten into her? Jabber wonger.. He would have a cute kid. Zanka would not admit that the vision that enters her mind has her colored hair, but the bright neon eyes of Jabber. That's weird, though. But she can't deny how.. Soft, seeing him play makes her feel. It's disgusting, no doubt. She shouldn't be thinking about these things; Jabber would never want something like that. Jabber's is probably only doing this because she knows she's watching. Or some other reason that isn't him being genuinely sweet with kids, because she doesn't think she can handle that.
Shaking her head, she puts a hand on her hip. Walking over to the group, she pauses slightly once she notices the skirt that's currently flowing around Jabber, but just laughs slightly and gets closer.
Once Jabber notices her, he transfers Amo to be over his shoulders, holding her arms with one arm, and her legs with the other. Her tummy is pressed against his head, and her hair dangles down from her sideways position.
“Wassup, my queen! How are ya doing?” Amo wriggles in his grasp, not wanting to escape but not wanting the fun to have ended that quickly, even if she kinda felt like she was gonna vomit from laughing so hard. Jabber wiggles her limbs slightly, and a new wave of giggles is released.
“I’m doin’ alright, I see you’ve been doin’ evil deeds this mornin'.”
He bends forward, and Amo rolls off his shoulders and into his arms.
“The evilest!” He laughs as he sets the girl down, who walks back over to where she was sitting and goes to finish her breakfast.
“I take it ya both already ate?”
Jabber nods and dusts himself off before curtsying at his partner.
“Queen, I’m eating! No crumbs!”
“If you tell me that ya only drank a monster, I will choke ya.”
He tilts his head before raising an eyebrow.
“Now don't go tempting me to lie, yeah i got breakfast with Amo.”
She nods and holds out her hand, to which Jabber immediately places the protein bar. It was a small ritual they had; Jabber had an instinct wherever he went to pocket some food. In the past, it was because he wasn't sure when the next meal would be; nowadays, it's because of this. She makes a motion, and he gives whatever he has.
“I’d like for ya to walk with me to our room.”
Jabber smiles, moving his head back at her forwardness, but begins skipping forward. Zanka unwraps and eats the bar as she walks behind the man. Normally, she likes to lead, but she seems to have no quarrels today. Once they get up there, Jabber walks into Zanka's room, standing in the middle and watching as she closes the door behind them, and gets the slight rush of feeling like a prey animal. The look his partner gives him only serves to solidify it.
“So, what inspired that.. Outfit, today?” Zanka leans against the door, and Jabber gets to appreciate the baggy pajama pants and sweater she's wearing, pale collar bones peaking out.
Jabber raises an eyebrow, putting his hands on his hips and swaying them ever so slightly, and he doesn't miss how Zanka glances at his thighs for just a moment.
“What, do you have an issue? I was playing dress up with Amo, she noticed my pants and brought me an outfit.”
The burning sensation of Zanka's eyes traveling up him makes him grin.
“Ya look.. Fuckin’ beautiful.” She walks up to him in long strides, grabbing his face and nails digging into his skin.
“God, do ya know how badly I wanna see ya get all dolled up, pretty eye make-up and lips as red as cherries, just to ruin it? I wanna hurt ya so bad ya have mascara runnin’ down yer face all pretty like.”
Zanka sounds slightly out of breath, and Jabber recoils slightly at the strong words, before melting into the touch.
“Yeah, I bet you do.” Jabber looks slightly down at her face, hand forcing his gaze.
She looks in his eyes with something he can't quite place.
“Would ya be opposed to me talkin’ to August about making ya something similar? Wouldn't want to.. Ruin somethin’ that doesn't belong to ya.” She fights herself to not say something about how, of course, she has full rein to ruin Jabber, though, because he is hers, in his entirety, without her, there is no him, without her, he is nothing but the dirt beneath everyone else's feet. But she thinks if she got started on that, she would lose her patience rather quickly. She backs away from him.
“Oh, you’re down bad,” He says with an amused look on his face, throwing his locs over his shoulder.
He walks back up to her and draws his hand up her neck with a teasing expression on his face, causing goosebumps to crawl over her pale skin.
“God,” A prayer, a request.
Her eyes are dilated, and he moves to make another mocking gesture, but is interrupted by Zanka slamming their mouths together. One of Zanka's hands finds the back of his thigh, below where the skirt ends, the other tangled in his hair. She hums and grabs supple skin, licking along her boyfriend's lip and making him open his mouth with a harsh tug to his hair. Warmth fills his mouth as she explodes eagerly with her tongue, uncaring of the spit that dribbles out of their mouths.
“If I knew you’d have liked it so much, i woulda asked her to dress me up sooner,” Jabber says once she backs away, both short of breath, the sound of pants fills the air.
“I want ya to give that outfit back to Amo, and meet me outside for a sparring match in twenty. If August has something that works, go for it.”
Zanka’s face is the only thing in his vision before she backs away further, face reddened. Jabber smirks.
“Vital instruments or no?”
“I want to rip you apart with just my hands.”
He laughs at that and moves to leave the room, glancing back at Zanka before opening the door and making a mock-military salute.
“Yes, ma’am! Wait- baby!” He takes Lamby out of his pocket and throws her at Zanka's face before running out the door.
“Why the fuck does she have stitch marks?!”
He laughs, his partner's confused shouts fading out as he gets further away. Mission success.