Tiger & Bunny - Ivan/Pao-lin

[lirillith]

Title: It Takes a Village
Fandom:  Tiger and Bunny
Characters: Ivan, Pao-lin, Sam (the mayor's young son) and ensemble; Ivan/Pao-lin pre-relationship in the background
Word count:  ~8k words
Rating: PG
Warnings:  Ivan's nearly 20 and Pao-lin's not yet 16, if attraction with that age difference bothers you
Summary:  A little over a year after their first adventure with him, the heroes are asked to babysit Sam again.  This time, Ivan and Pao-lin are in charge of him.
Notes:  Written for the Trope Bingo "accidental baby acquisition" square.  Set circa episode 14, or just a bit before; T&B are busy being the hottest stars of Hero TV, Sam's about a year and a half old, and Ivan may have gained some confidence but still doesn't know how to talk to girls.

****

Ivan was following Fire Emblem into the lounge when suddenly, the taller man stopped dead. Ivan walked right into his back and bounced off, and while normally that was the kind of thing Fire Emblem would have turned into a good couple of minutes of innuendo, he had something else on his mind right now.

“Is that who I think it is?” Fire Emblem demanded, pointing dramatically. Ivan peeked around his side; there was a dark-skinned, curly-haired toddler standing by the table, smashing two action figures together. It looked like one was Rock Bison and one was Sky HIgh.

“Yes, it’s little Sam,” Agnes said, sounding a bit weary. “Stop pointing like that, Nathan. He’s eighteen months old.”

“That baby is a killer!” Nathan said, dramatically. Ivan edged around behind him. Sam had certainly wreaked havoc the last time he was here, but he was also really cute when he was happy, and he sounded happy at the moment. Plus, he was probably big enough that he didn’t just cry and break things anymore. Ivan hoped. This was where it would help to have Tiger around; Tiger would know more about what toddlers did.

“I repeat, eighteen months old.”

“A child that age is dangerous with NEXT powers!”

“Man, you’re lucky Barnaby’s not here,” Rock Bison said. He was sitting next to Agnes, holding an energy drink, and of course he didn’t need to keep his distance; he wasn’t going to be injured by Sam throwing things around the room.

“It’s true,” Ivan said. “He got his powers when he was a baby. Everybody knows that.”

“And I bet if his parents were with us today they’d back me up,” Fire Emblem said with a sniff, though he finally moved out of the doorway and over to the far side of the room from Sam. “Why is he here? There’s no child-focused crime wave like the last time the mayor foisted him on us. Can’t they keep a civilian baby sitter?”

“Of course they can’t,” Agnes said. “You said it yourself, he’s too little to have much control over his powers.”

“So why should we have to suffer?  Tiger and Barnaby have been too busy to even come into training.  He didn’t like any of the rest of us.”

“Dragon Kid was pretty good with him…” Ivan offered tentatively.

“Daggon!” Sam exclaimed. He dropped the bulky Rock Bison toy and toddled over to a bag on the couch next to Agnes. Bison leaned over to pick it up off the floor, and then used the hem of his shirt to clean it up a bit.

“And Tiger was right back then,” Fire Emblem continued. “We’re not the mayor’s personal staff. This isn’t our job.”

“It’s about trying to maintain goodwill,” she said. “Look, no one’s asking you to take care of him.”

“And why not?” Fire Emblem sounded affronted.  Ivan had no idea why he was in such a mood.  Yeah, he’d gotten clobbered by Sam the last time, but it hadn’t even left a mark, which Ivan knew because Fire Emblem had asked him repeatedly to check. Fortunately, before anyone had to answer that, the door hissed open again. This time it was Dragon Kid and Sky High, and Dragon Kid’s face lit up at the sight of the back of Sam’s head.

“Is that who I think it is?” she asked, sounding ten times happier than when Fire Emblem had said the same words. God, she had the most amazing smile. Not for the first time, Ivan ran through the creepiness equation in his head. He wasn’t twenty yet… Sam, meanwhile, turned around with a Dragon Kid figure clutched in his fist. “Daggon!” he exclaimed.

“Oh wow, yes! That’s me!” She sat on the floor in front of him, accepting the toy. Sam turned back to the toy bag.

“That’s why,” Agnes said.

*

It turned out that they didn’t know exactly how long they’d be taking care of Sam this time. Some kind of family emergency had called the mayor and his wife out of town, and it remained to be seen if one or both of them would return that night, or if the heroes would be keeping him overnight. They had a wealth of baby supplies for him, at any rate. Toys, diapers — “He’s not even potty-trained yet?” Fire Emblem had asked, dismayed — a car seat, and something like five changes of clothes.

“Kids that age are messy eaters, maybe?” Bison asked. They were all equally ignorant as to the reason; Agnes had vacated before Blue Rose even showed up, meaning it was up to the pack of heroes to sort out Sam-care. “I’ll call Dragon Kid if his parents are going to be away overnight,” she’d said. “Just as long as there’s an adult involved too. Any adult.”

Ivan was privately wondering if it would be creepy to suggest his place if Dragon Kid was stuck with Sam overnight. It’d be easier than taking care of him at her apartment in the Odysseus building, and as long as Sam didn’t have access to Ivan’s bedroom, there wouldn’t be much he could mess up. He could stash all his weapons in the bedroom too. It’d be perfect! Except possibly creepy. Maybe there was an uncreepy way to suggest it, though?

The problem was that while he thought Sam was cute, he was perfectly happy to treat babies like… tropical fish, or something else that was nice to look at but not to cuddle, be responsible for, or clean up after. Pao-lin, on the other hand, seemed to really like Sam, and Sam obviously thought she was great. So he was a pretty smart baby, with good instincts.

The game Pao-lin was playing with him mostly seemed to involve following Sam’s lead and occasionally whacking action figures together while he made random-seeming noises. The two of them seemed to be enjoying themselves, though, and eventually Sky High got down on the floor to join them. His role mostly seemed to be posing the toy Sky High, and any other action figures Sam sent his way, either saluting or with their arms extended in one of his signature poses.

Blue Rose, apparently lured by the cuteness, was the next to join; she didn’t really seem to get into it like Dragon Kid did, but she was smiling more than he’d seen from her since Tiger retired, and Sam seemed to understand that some people were just bad at playing; he’d crash his toys into hers, making high-pitched noises, and then return to his business. Finally, Bison leaned forward, not quite participating in the game but more involved than Ivan was.

Or Fire Emblem, who’d joined him in the end. “He is a little cutie pie,” Fire Emblem admitted.

“He is,” Ivan agreed.

“Seems to be easier to get along with now, too.”

“Bzzah!” Sam exclaimed, getting up from the floor and coming over to grab Fire Emblem’s knee.

“Oh no,” Fire Emblem said. “I remember what happened the last time I held you, even if you don’t.”

“Bzzah!” Sam repeated. “Up!”

“You’re going to have to ask somebody else,” Fire Emblem said. Sam’s face began to turn downward into a pout — it was kind of amazing to watch, like when Tiger’s facial expressions changed — and Fire Emblem relented. “Okay, okay, I can’t take the puppydog eyes,” he said. “Don’t start throwing things, sweetie, okay?”

“Bzzah,” Sam said, which sure sounded like agreement.

“I wonder what it means,” Ivan said, watching Nathan pick him up and stand him on his lap.

“Up!” Sam repeated.

“What?  You are up.”

“Gah ba.“ 

“Is it weird I kind of want to protect my action figure?” Blue Rose asked. “Look, the paint’s coming off her nose.”

“I know how you feel,” Bison said. “He was about to break the drills off mine.”

“Oh honey, there are so many places I could take that…” Fire Emblem was standing up, with Sam settled on his hip, and Ivan would have sworn Sam looked triumphant as he surveyed the room from up high.

“Not in front of the kids, Nathan,” Bison said. Fire Emblem just smiled. Ivan blinked, and then tried to catch Pao-lin’s eye. Were they flirting? That looked like flirting to Ivan! Bison got up and walked over to them, to make faces at Sam.

“The Mickey ears are about to fall off of mine,” Pao-lin said, oblivious. “And I don’t know what happened to Ivan’s shuriken.”

“They might have taken that away,” he said, moving over to the heap of toys on the floor. “His parents, I mean.  I know the toy line left out my swords so little kids wouldn’t choke on them.”  There was also a high-end, super-detailed line of action figures for adult collectors, and another in Japan, and he owned his own action figure from all three. And had written up detailed reviews for his blog.

“That’s also the case with the jetpack on mine!” Sky High said. Sure enough, the toy Sky High had no jetpack and no point on his helmet, as he could see because the real Sky High was holding it aloft.

“I’m not sure he could fit the shuriken in his mouth if it’s to scale,” Pao-lin said. Ivan took the toy Sky High, and the real Sky High got up, dusting off his knees.

“You three really look like a family!” he said, looking at Fire Emblem, Rock Bison, and Sam. “Mommy, Daddy, and baby!” Ivan sensed more than saw the girls’ heads snap in the direction of the newly-dubbed family.

“Oh stop,” Fire Emblem exclaimed happily. He was definitely blushing, too.

Rock Bison coughed. “I… yeah, I guess the mayor’s wife is Latina and he’s black, so… yeah. Huh.”

“It’s very cute!” Sky High declared. “Very cute!”

No one seemed to have any idea what to say after that. Except Sam, who waited until the silence had gotten kind of awkward to lean way over out of Nathan’s arms, reaching for Bison. “Gah za ba!” he demanded.  Bison halfway took him over just to keep him from falling.

“Jeez,” Ivan blurted, “he just wants to be as high up as he can get.”

“Like a cat!” Blue Rose agreed, and he smiled gratefully at her.  Nearly three years, now, and he was still happy when people listened to him talk. “So much for my chance to get to hold him,” she added, a bit sulkily.

“Maybe if you got on Fire Emblem’s shoulders…”

“He’ll let me hold him,” Pao-lin said, confident as ever. Ivan would never get over that; she never worried about being wrong, never felt the need to hedge her bets, add an I think or I hope after her statements. “So I bet he’ll let you hold him too.”

*

Eventually, everyone got their chance to hold him except Ivan — which was fine with Ivan, really — before Sam decided he wanted to stand on his own two feet. Or rather, run on his own two feet, pretty much at random, all over the room, shrieking and giggling. It was around that time that Sky High had to leave for a TV appearance, and they all realized they needed to work on their plan.

“I dunno how my parents would feel about it,” Blue Rose said, then, “Never mind, Agnes said there had to be an adult involved anyway. I don’t think she meant adding up our ages.”

“Despite being his mother now, my evening’s way too busy for me to offer my place,” Fire Emblem said. “That is… I could offer it, but I wouldn’t be there.”

“That’s okay, Nathan,” she said.

“What about mine?” Ivan blurted. Well, at least he’d waited until they’d all started discussing the issue, instead of being the first one to bring it up. Bison smiled at him, which confused Ivan for a second, until he realized he was letting Bison off the hook.

“That’d be great!” Pao-lin said, a lot more enthusiastically than he’d expected. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind!”

He didn’t mind at all! He was just suddenly terrified. Pao-lin would be seeing his apartment! He needed to make sure it looked okay before she got there. He needed to stash all his weapons before Sam got there. And he still had everything else on his list for today to take care of.

 *

He had a fan meetup and a merchandising meeting that afternoon, but when those were over he went back to the training center to check up on Pao-lin and Sam.  Instead of Pao-lin, he was surprised to find Sky High there.  Sam was asleep on the couch, and Sky High, looking a little frazzled, was watching over him.  

“Dragon Kid had business to take care of!” Sky High explained, in the loudest, most enthusiastic whisper possible.  ”So I offered to take care of Sam!”  

“That was nice of you,” Ivan agreed, cautiously, and much more quietly.  If Sam woke up he seemed likely to be grouchy.  Ivan knew he would be if he woke up in a strange place because a couple of people were talking.  ”Has he been using his powers much?”

“Only once!” Sky High said.  ”But he did not lift any furniture this time!”

“That’s good to know,” Ivan said.  Of course, he didn’t have much furniture in the first place — the whole reason he’d offered his apartment — but he didn’t want Sam breaking his TV.  ”I guess it makes sense.”

“It does?”

That he’d use his powers more back when he couldn’t move around or talk at all — and that they’d he’d focus on them more when they were the only way he had of expressing himself.  Then again, toddlers didn’t stop crying completely just because they learned how to ask for things; that was where tantrums came in.  So that was something to look forward to; kicking, screaming, flying furniture, maybe also explosions or at least severe blunt trauma.  ”Never mind,” Ivan said.  It’d be hard to explain, at least to Sky High, and he’d rather not tempt fate by talking about it.  ”Do you, uh… do you know much about kids, Sky High?”  

“Only a little!  My sister has two children!  Twins!”  

For a second Ivan thought Sky High meant he had a twin sister — and maybe he did, twins ran in families, didn’t they? — and his mind reeled at the thought of a female version.  ”Are they, um…”  He had no idea where he was going to take that sentence.  How old were they?  What were they like?  Ivan had an image of two tiny Sky Highs doing his arms-up pose.  Good thing Sky High had his own ideas.

“They are not NEXTs so far!” he said.  ”I think my sister should be very grateful,” he added, with feeling.  “Very, very grateful.”  

The only thing that was going to stop Ivan from laughing until he was literally sick was the need to explain to Sky High why he was laughing.  

 *

Eventually Sam woke up on his own.  Ivan immediately tensed, but Sky High seemed ready for this.  ”Would you like some juice?” he asked.  Sam wanted juice.  Sam also wanted Mama, or Daggon, but Sky High gently explained neither one was there.  ”Why don’t we fly?” he suggested.

“High!” Sam exclaimed.  Ivan got the impression this had been Sky High’s main way of appeasing a grumpy Sam while he was on his own.  How many words was a kid that age supposed to know?  Was it bad that so many of the ones he did know were hero-related?  But the mayor had no one but himself to blame if they were going to keep leaving Sam with the heroes.

“All right,” Sky High agreed, like he hadn’t suggested it.  ”Let’s go.  Upsy-daisy,” he half-grunted, lifting Sam up, then, “Sky high!”  He didn’t just toss Sam, a short bounce that barely left the hands, like Ivan could do.  He floated him up nearly to the ceiling, then drifted him down gently, and Sam loved it, squealing and giggling each time.  He loved it so much Ivan was a little worried about how they’d cope overnight without Sky High.  It was possible that just tossing Sam the old-fashioned way would work, but Ivan worried about dropping him. Maybe swinging him around without actually letting go of him would work in a pinch?  Or… “Maybe we can call you if it’s an emergency?” he asked hopefully.

“Of course!  I would be happy to help!”  He probably would.  Even at four in the morning.  Sky High was so nice it was hard to believe he was real.  Or maybe he thought Ivan meant a serious emergency, not an angry-NEXT-baby emergency.  Ivan wasn’t sure if there was really a difference, though, considering Sam had helped take down a kidnapping ring before he could walk.

“We’ll only call you as a last resort!” Ivan added, hastily.  ”I wouldn’t want to bother you.  I mean, you’ve been watching him for a couple of hours already, without Dragon Kid.”  

“What about me?” Pao-lin asked, over the sound of the doors hissing open.  Rock Bison followed her in.

“Daggon!”  Sam squirmed so hard to get down that Sky High nearly dropped him, and once he was on the floor, he raced straight for Pao-lin.

“Wow, missed me, huh?”  She knelt down to catch him with tickles, and Ivan hoped like hell he wasn’t turning beet red.  She was just so cute when she was smiling and laughing like this, and the fact it involved tickling a toddler just upped the adorability even more.  

“I, uh,” Ivan began, but she didn’t seem to hear, so he gave up.  It wasn’t that important.  And besides, seeing her with Sam reminded him of the whole reason Sky High had trouble, and probably the reason the heroes were responsible for him now — Sam adored her. 

They wouldn’t need to bother Sky High at all.

 *

“We might not even need to use your house,” Pao-lin said, but since it was getting dark already, Ivan figured they should more or less count on it.  She was running through her workout while Sam and Ivan watched from a bench (or the general vicinity of a bench, in Sam’s case,) and Ivan used his phone to search for what to feed toddlers.  To his dismay, it seemed like they ate solid foods.  

“You cook a lot of Japanese food, right?  I bet he’ll eat rice.”

“I’m not really much of a cook…” He made onigiri and miso soup at home, more than anything.  And grilled cheese sandwiches.  ”I do have a rice cooker, though.”  He’d actually been hoping to get takeout, if only to prove to Pao-lin that he didn’t just live off Japanese food.  He worried that she thought his obsession with Japan was silly, or that it bugged her because China and Japan didn’t have the best history, or just because, like, what was so great about Japan, he should be a fan of China too, or instead.  

“Well there you go.”  She never even missed a beat, punching and jabbing at the sparring dummy; it wasn’t as elegant as her kung-fu form exercises, but it was just as impressive.

“What if rice isn’t okay for babies?”

“Ivan,” she said, stepping away from her sparring dummy, hands on hips, to fix him with a look.  ”What do you think my parents fed me when I was that age?”

“But shouldn’t he eat, like… vegetables?”

“If you don’t have any I bet he’ll live for one night.”

The amount of time and effort it took to get the three of them in Ivan’s car was impressive.  Maybe most parents weren’t traveling with giant diaper bags and boxes of toys, but there was still the time to get Sam into his car seat and strapped in, and of course Sam had his own ideas about that. 

“It’s funny,” Pao-lin said, settling into the front seat.  “Not really what I expected of your car.”

“What do you mean?”  Oh god, what had she expected his car to be like?  He’d cleaned it out as best he could.

“Well, it’s not Japanese…”

“I’m not that bad!” he protested, embarrassed, but she was laughing as he started up the car.

“Just teasing,” she said.  “I don’t know, I guess I sort of expected an Origami-car, you know?  Like Fire Emblem’s.  Or Blue Rose’s bike.  I just never thought about what you’d really drive.”

“I know what you mean.  I didn’t expect Tiger to drive an SUV either.”  Though he’d completely expected Sky High to drive a sensible hybrid that smelled like dog, and both Barnaby and Fire Emblem to drive red sports cars.  Sort of.  He wouldn’t have been surprised if Fire Emblem’s had been pink instead.

“Right?  It’s like, even though I see everyone every day, I sort think of them as their hero-selves unless I have reason not to.”

He nodded, maneuvering out of the training center’s parking garage.  ”I have no idea what Bison would drive.  A truck?”

“A Humvee?”

 *

If his apartment wasn’t what she expected, she didn’t say so, but it very well might have been.  He’d spent his entire signing bonus (which, granted, wasn’t that much) to fit his apartment out as much like a traditional Japanese home as he could; tansu cabinets, tatami mats, futons… he had three, which had seemed extremely optimistic at the time, but now he was glad of it.  

They’d gotten the call from Agnes on the way there, confirming they’d be keeping Sam overnight.  ”Try not to get kidnapped this time,” Agnes had said, wearily, to Pao-lin; Ivan had to try not to laugh, especially since Pao-lin was pretty offended about it.  ”Those women are in prison!” she fumed, as they unloaded Sam — now eager to get out of his car seat — and his baggage.  ”It’s not like they’ll get me again!”

“I think she was joking…” he said tentatively, which didn’t work like he hoped, but the sight of his apartment dispersed her grumpy mood.

“Wow.  You’re really serious about this stuff,” she said, unlacing her shoes at the entry.   

“I just, uh…” He wasn’t sure how to describe it.  He hoped it was the kind of seriousness she could respect, like she seemed to respect his weapon training and karate practice, not the kind of seriousness that was overly obsessive and kind of freakish.  He’d worried she thought he was just some anime-loving nerd.  It was true, that was what got him interested at first, his gateway drug, but it was Kurosawa films that had really sealed his fate.  His focus on ninjas had just been the logical extension of his powers, because he was clearly designed to be stealthy and work from the shadows, scouting and spying, rather than getting into head-on fights.  ”It was the first time I had a place all my own, so…”

“That’s pretty cool,” she said.  ”Where’d you find it all?”

He stared at her for a moment, almost unable to believe his luck, before he started babbling out the story of how he found the store.   He hadn’t even described his first conversation with the saleslady, Yoriko, before he realized she wasn’t paying attention.  ”It, um… anyway, it was a really cool store,” he mumbled, dropping the story abruptly.

“Sorry,” she said immediately.  ”I’m just pretty hungry.  And Sam’s acting kind of squirmy, so I wonder if he needs be changed.  Did you want to order takeout or just cook something?”  

Kind of, if only because he wasn’t sure he wanted to risk her hating his cooking skills.  Pao-lin took food pretty seriously; it wasn’t just about quantity, though she did have an amazing appetite.  ”I have a bunch of menus,” he said, heading for the kitchen (not terribly Japanese-looking, so he blocked it off with screens) to retrieve them.  ”The question is what’s okay for a baby to eat.”  

They each had their own way of answering questions.  Ivan immediately went to his computer to start a couple of searches, while she changed Sam in the bathroom.  He tried what to feed toddlers and feeding eighteen month old and can toddlers eat spicy food (because Indian food was sounding pretty good to him right now) and started clicking links.  

By the time he’d discovered that (a) it depended on the toddler, and (b) it depended on who you asked, he could hear Pao-lin talking.  Just to Sam, he thought at first, but then he caught a couple of pauses in the conversation and started listening a little more closely.  ”Thanks, Tiger,” she said, and he realized she’d probably found a solution already.  

“What’d he say?” he asked, leaving the room.

“Oh, you heard?  He’s coming over with Barnaby.  They should be here in about half an hour.”

“Oh,” Ivan said faintly.  ”Okay.”  It would be okay, he told himself, as he followed her into the living room.  Pao-lin had liked his apartment, so maybe Tiger would, too.  If Tiger hadn’t started looking down on him over his hero suit, or his shuriken practice, or the way he always ordered hot green tea no matter what they were having, he probably wouldn’t start looking down on him over his carefully-arranged apartment, considering that he’d been careful to get the real thing, not just cheap knock-offs.  

And then of course there was Barnaby’s opinion, but he and Barnaby had actually talked about decorating their apartments once, so Barnaby at least knew Ivan’s place was all Japanese in style, even if he’d never seen it.

“Just for a little bit,” she said.  ”They have another appearance later tonight.”  She knelt to open up the bag of toys, which Sam was tugging on ineffectually.

“Being on top must be rough,” he said.  Not that he’d ever find out.  He was actually pretty happy about that; Sky High and Blue Rose seemed to have constant pressure from their bosses, to get on top and then stay there.  And Pao-lin had similar problems, though she’d had a pretty high-pressure upbringing — constant lessons and training — and got more upset about things related to appearance than anyone pushing her to perform.  

“Yeah, I hope I get a few years before I’m number one,” she said absently, and he grinned.  It wasn’t bravado or arrogance; it just stood to reason that she’d get there eventually, and she didn’t see any reason for false modesty.  He remembered the blog post-mortems of their rookie season.  Nobody had known what to make of him, the gimmick hero, but they seemed to think Pao-lin could be one of the all-time greats.  He wasn’t sure how they determined things like that, but he’d been impressed then, and now he was… almost proud, even though he’d had nothing to do with her success.  She was just really good, that was all.  

*

They had Sam comfortably established with some toy that involved blocks of different shapes when the doorbell rang; the sound startled him, and a red cylinder smacked Ivan in the back of the head as he went to answer.  Sam wasn’t crying, exactly, but he was making experimental fussing noises, and Ivan was glad once again that he’d closed off his bedroom so Sam wouldn’t have access to real weapons.  It was a helpful distraction from the worry about what people would think of him, at least.

“Careful,” Ivan said.  Before he’d even finished the warning, Barnaby had ducked, and a yellow square block hit Tiger between the eyes.

“Nice job protecting me, Bunny,” Tiger complained, as Ivan stepped back to let them into the entryway.  Tiger shut the door behind them.  Ivan glanced at Pao-lin, who’d picked Sam up and was bouncing him on her hip; he’d stopped glowing, so Ivan felt safe scooping up the blocks.  

“You’re the one who thinks you have a way with children,” Barnaby countered.  ”Shoes off, right?”

“On tatami mats?  Definitely,” Tiger said, before Ivan could answer.  He was already out of his own shoes, and stepped into the room.  ”Nice work, Origami.  Was it that place on…” he snapped his fingers, trying to remember.  ”Uh, geez, it’s in West Bronze.  On Gateway, I think?”  

“That’s the one!”

“Mind showin’ me around before we go?  We thought about doing our first place up like this, but it wasn’t really made for it…”

We.  Tiger and his late wife?  Ivan didn’t think he should call attention to it.  ”This really isn’t, either.  I just decided to ignore that.” 

Tiger laughed, and approached Sam and Pao-lin, hands in his pockets.  ”And here’s the guest of honor.  How’s it goin’, buddy?” He leaned in to look Sam in the face. His voice had gone high-pitched and babyish, and Sam seemed to be regarding him with distrust.  ”You remember me at all, huh?”

Sam made a little hiccuping, unhappy noise; his lower lip was quivering visibly.  Ivan flung himself on the toy bag like it was a grenade.  ”I don’t think he likes it when you do that,” Barnaby said hastily.  He was holding his boots in one hand like he was afraid they’d be used as weapons, too.

“Well how else are you supposed to talk to a baby?” Tiger protested, in his normal voice.  ”There’s a reason they call it baby talk.”  

“Bah!” Sam exclaimed.  He smacked his hands together, like he was clapping, and then extended his arm, one palm on each section of Tiger’s beard.  Silence reigned for a moment, then Barnaby made a faint huff of laughter, Ivan snickered, and Pao-lin burst out into giggles.

“Okay,” Tiger said philosophically.  ”You sure showed me.”  

“Da bah bah ba,” Sam continued.  Ivan got back on his feet, feeling a little silly, and Barnaby set his boots down on the floor and finally entered the room as well.  

“I may have destroyed furniture at that age, but at least my reach was limited,” Barnaby said, under his breath, though it seemed to be addressed to Ivan, and Ivan grinned.  ”I’d love to see more of the apartment as well,” he added, this time definitely to Ivan, “but I do need to keep Kotetsu on track.”

“It won’t take long.  There’s only so much to see,” Ivan said.  ”I mean, the kitchen’s just a kitchen.  It’s just an ordinary American apartment underneath the screens and mats.  And I guess the furniture.”

“Furniture?”

“I have a desk in my room,” Ivan said.  There really wasn’t any visible furniture here.  ”And a table in the dining area.”

“It’s minimalist, though,” Barnaby said.  ”I like it.”  

So Ivan was trying not to glow as Pao-lin asked Tiger about toddler-feeding, and Tiger, helpfully, explained that it depended on the toddler — Pao-lin’s solution might have been more direct, but not more conclusive — and Sam got bored with the beard and vocally expressed his interest in being on the floor again.  Pao-lin wasn’t quite fast enough, and Sam levitated some shoes, but nothing went flying, mercifully.  

“Kotetsu,” Barnaby said, his tone just barely warning.

“I know, I know.  Those songs about motor oil aren’t gonna sing themselves.”

“Be fair, the ad jingle was for a restaurant.  I don’t believe we have one for the motor oil.”  

“It’s still—”

“So would you mind giving us the grand tour, Origami?”  

Not that grand; it was really just two rooms and a bathroom.  His bedroom was still separated off from the rest of the apartment by a wall, despite the screens he’d put up everywhere, and he’d given up the pretense of a traditional Japanese house in there.  Instead he’d hung up some framed posters and prints — ukiyo-e art and a couple of movie posters.  Of course, he also had, on his desk, a stuffed Dragon Quest slime wearing a Sand Village headband (birthday gifts from Edward in their first and second years at the academy,) the Origami Cyclone action figure triplets, and  a bunch of his prouder origami creations, but his room was basically tidy and nothing to be too horribly ashamed of.  

“Yojimbo,” Tiger said.  ”That’s they one they based Fistful of Dollars on, right?”

“A slime!” Barnaby exclaimed happily.  ”I remember those!”

“You do?” he and Pao-lin asked, almost at the same time.

“From the video games, right?  Dragon Warrior?”

“I didn’t know you played games!” Pao-lin said.  Neither had Ivan.  Neither, it seemed, had Tiger, who was staring at his partner rather than pouting that his own question had been ignored.  

“It’s been over twenty years,” Barnaby said.  ”It was really more like my father played and let me think I was helping, in retrospect.”

“Awww,” Tiger said, with a fond smile.  ”I know how that goes.”  

“Oop,” Pao-lin said, scooping up Sam as he headed straight for the low desk and the stack of shuriken on it.  ”I wonder if he’s big enough for us to teach him how to game.”

“Probably can’t hold the controls,” Tiger said, as Barnaby asked, “Is that a rabbit?”  Which meant Ivan got to explain his origami Hero TV cast: a tiger, a bison, a dragon, a rose, a rabbit, and a phoenix, for Fire Emblem.  He still hadn’t figured out what to do for himself, or Sky High, though Sky High’s was more relevant.  

“I wanted to give one to everybody, but I didn’t want to leave anyone out,” he admitted.  He couldn’t decide whether he was embarrassed at being caught putting so much thought and effort into it, or proud; everyone seemed so impressed, though (Pao-lin even risked coming close to the desk with Sam to get a good look at the dragon) that he leaned towards proud.  

“Maybe a bird for Sky High,” Tiger suggested.  ”Not like a crane, if you feel like that’s too easy, but something flying.  Or a balloon.  Since he’s such an airhead.”  

Barnaby shook his head.  ”You just turned the balloon into a veiled insult,” he said.  ”And we really should be going, Kotetsu.”  

“Okay, you win.  Off to sing the praises of transmission fluid, actual singing optional.  See ya, bruiser,” he added, in a squeaky voice, to Sam.  Sam reached out, so Tiger bent down to let Sam pet his beard.  

“Thank you for having us,” Barnaby said, as he and Ivan started out of the room — not that they needed to be shown out, but it seemed polite and also helped prevent a traffic jam at the bedroom door.  ”Your apartment’s very impressive.”

“Oh, it’s, uh… thanks,” Ivan mumbled.  More people had seen his apartment today than had seen it in all the time since he moved in.  He was happy people seemed to be liking it, and not acting like he was a freak.

“A paper airplane!” Tiger exclaimed, just before the door closed.  Ivan smiled, but he was also starting to feel a little overwhelmed.   Pao-lin and Sam were staying.  Pao-lin was staying overnight, in his apartment, with him.  

It would be so embarrassing if his head exploded.

*

They gave Sam vegetable biryani for dinner, and mild aloo gobi.  He turned up his nose at saag paneer.  ”I guess that makes sense,” Ivan said.  ”I hated spinach when I was little too.”

“Awww, I bet you were cute at that age,” she said. 

His face had heated, and he’d whispered “thanks,” before he realized he wasn’t sure what brought that up in the first place.  “Wait, because… Because I didn’t like spinach?”

“No, because you were a baby!”  She captured one of Sam’s hands to clean it with a napkin, which seemed like wasted effort since she’d already decreed he’d need a bath.  ”Babies aren’t shy, right?  I bet you’d have been adorable running around playing with tiny shuriken.”

“…some babies are shy,” he managed.  He’d never had tiny shuriken; he hadn’t gotten into ninjas until he was old enough to baby-sit a kid Sam’s age.  Had she given a lot of thought to him being an adorable toddler, though, and if so, was that good or bad?  He’d never tried to imagine her as an adorable toddler before.  From the way she talked about her lifetime’s worth of training, he suspected that as a toddler she could still have flipped him over her shoulder.  

“Yeah, with strangers.  It’s a passing thing, right?  It’s not like… you know, how you are.”

Oh god.  ”Sorry,” he mumbled.  Which was probably exactly what she didn’t want him to do, but he couldn’t help it.  

“That came out wrong, didn’t it?  I just mean you should relax, you know?  You’re always so worried.  Everybody likes you!”  

“Not everybody…”

“What, are your blog commenters acting up again?  I’ll kick their asses for you.”

“First you’d have to find out who they are… no, it’s not that.”  

“Then what is it?”

It wasn’t anything.  It was everything.  He was trying to be more confident, he really was; he was working on his powers, trying to figure out a way to use them as a hero, since there weren’t a lot of undercover missions he could use them on.  Everybody likes you wasn’t totally accurate — the other heroes didn’t like him the way they liked Sky High, or Tiger — but they didn’t dislike him, either.  Being around them was a lot more comfortable now than it had been in his rookie season.  Edward didn’t hate him anymore, even; he’d just been to visit him last week.  ”It’s nothing,” he said.  

She huffed irritably, but she let it drop, turning her attention to vigorously wiping Sam’s face.  Ivan got up and started clearing off the table.  It’s not blog commenters, or the other heroes.  I want you to like me.  And when you talk about how shy I am like it’s a really weird, bad thing, I feel like you don’t like me.  And there was no way to say that, really, because she’d just insist she did like him, they were friends, and he knew that was true; it was just that her opinion mattered to him, a lot.  More than he liked to admit.  

He still had a blog entry to write, even if Pao-lin was annoyed with him, so he retreated to his room to do that.  He could hear water running in the bathroom; she’d probably be busy for a while, but he didn’t really have a topic in mind for the moment.  He could in theory write about babysitting Sam — it’d been a while since he’d done a “day in the life of Origami” post” — but the mayor might not be too thrilled about him disclosing that.  

He pushed his keyboard aside, and pulled out some yellow origami paper.  He could make a quick peace offering for Pao-lin; he actually had dozens of patterns for origami dragons, but there was one he knew well and could pull off from memory, like a crane, balloon, or box.  It still took a while, though, especially since he wanted to be sure he didn’t give her a half-assed peace offering.  He was so absorbed in the process of folding he barely noticed the sound of a baby squealing happily until a naked Sam ran into his room, giggling. 

Pao-lin followed a moment later, towel at the ready.  “He escaped,” she explained, grinning.

“That was unexpected!” he said brightly, and she laughed. 

“What are you making?” she asked. 

He was about two folds away from completion.  “Just a second,” he said, crimping the wings into shape.  He surveyed it for a second before he held it out to her.  “It’s a dragon,” he added, just so there wouldn’t be any confusion. 

“Oh, awesome!  I’ll take it when I’m not busy with Squirmy here,” she said.  “That’s so cool, Ivan!  You have to show me how you make those!”

“Okay,” he said, though she was already on the way out, bundling Sam along with the towel.  Still, he felt a lot better about things now.  He kept reviews of Japanese food in reserve for days like this, when he had no other ideas.  He’d post a write-up of a recent Pocky flavor or Kit-Kat variety, throw in a few captioned photobombs, and he was done; plenty of time to teach Pao-lin how to make dragons.  Not every day could involve unboxing an Origami action figure, or describing some new armor feature or piece of equipment.

It took him longer than he’d realized, though, because while he was still sorting through the photos in his email and the relevant Pwitter hashtags, he heard a light knock on the frame of the open door.

“Hey,” Pao-lin said.  ”Do you have any computer paper in here?  Sam’s about to run out of pages in his coloring book.”  

“Sure,” he said, standing up to grab the opened, mostly-full package on the top of the hutch.  ”Just take the whole package, in case he gets really artistic.”

“Are you updating your blog?” she asked.  

“Yeah, just one of the— you don’t read it, never mind.”

“No, I check it out sometimes.”

“You do?”

“Once in a while.”  She wouldn’t meet his eyes as she took the package of paper from him.  ”I was curious, since you spend so much time on it.” 

It was the second time he’d ever seen Pao-lin looking embarrassed (the first time had been when Blue Rose had convinced her to wear some makeup and he’d noticed something different.)  ”What do you think of it?” he asked.  ”It’s probably kind of boring…”

“You’re pretty funny sometimes,” she said.  Back to making eye contact.  That was good.  It was weird to see Pao-lin acting shy.  “You know, like the posts you write about your shoes?”

The Origami-geta were almost more like stilts than shoes, and his suit engineer, who was probably really bored, occasionally worked a new gimmick into them. The most recent was a rocket-like effect he could activate on jumping, so he could be a bargain-basement Barnaby if he remembered.  Ivan wrote the blog in-character, and he’d developed the blog-Origami as kind of a curmudgeon, a change-averse traditionalist who had trouble with technology, and who reported each awesome new feature added to his suit and equipment with confusion and dread.  He especially hated the constant infernal innovations being inflicted on his shoes.  Ivan had developed the idea when he first started the blog, to make a joke out of any problems he had with them on-camera, and that first post had been so well-received he made it into a running gag.  

“You like those?” he asked, hopefully.  

She nodded.  ”You really are funny,” she said.  ”You just don’t think anyone notices in person.”  She turned to take the paper to Sam, before he could ask if she noticed; but then she turned back to say, “Don’t forget about showing me how to make dragons, okay?”  

*

So that was how they spent their evening; while Sam scribbled with and occasionally gnawed on his crayons, they folded cranes and dragons and balloons, and Ivan searched patterns and tried out different birds to represent Sky High. 

“What about you?” she asked. 

“I don’t need to give myself a present,” he said.  “What I wish I could do is come up with something for Edward — something like a crane that’d fold up flat so I could mail it to him.”

“That’s your friend in prison?”  He nodded.  “What are his powers again?”

“Sand,” he said, “and moving through solid objects…”  Which sounded pretty weird if you hadn’t seen it action, so he had to explain in more detail.  Pao-lin was flipping through one of his origami books as he talked. 

“Maybe you should forget about his powers and just send him seasonal stuff.  I mean, if he was a hero, you’d base it on his name, not his powers, right?  Since he doesn’t have a hero name, you can’t use that.  So instead, like… look at this Christmas tree!”

“That’s really easy,” he said, ready to dismiss it, but then he noticed the picture she was pointing at.  “But it’s flat…”

“Exactly!  You fold him a Christmas tree and stick it in with a letter you send him in December.  Or a card, whatever.  You fold a star or something for Independence Day.  There’s a whole section on holiday origami in here.  It doesn’t have to be fancy, right?  It’s the thought that counts.”

“That’s a really good idea!” he said.  “Thanks, Pao-lin.” 

He almost thought she blushed, but he had to be imagining things there.  “No problem,” she kind of mumbled.  Then she rallied.  “There are more dragon patterns, right?  I didn’t find any in this book, but there’s no way there’s just one.”

 *

Eventually Sam started yawning, and Pao-lin herded him off to Ivan’s bedroom to tuck him into a futon and read him a story — the note from the Mayor’s wife, which had been so hazy about his food preferences, was really specific about his bedtime routine — leaving Ivan at a table full of paper, some of it decorated, some of it folded into shapes, some of it creased and discarded, some of it wadded up from Sam’s attempts at joining them in origami.  He wasn’t sure if he ought to try to clean i all up or not.  For some reason, he was tired, even though he hadn’t been doing much baby-wrangling to speak of.  He couldn’t imagine how Pao-lin felt. 

Because Sam needed to sleep, and shouldn’t be disturbed by big people running around brushing their teeth and so on, Sam got Ivan’s bedroom.  Ivan’s weapons got tucked away in the closet for one night, and Ivan was going to lay out his own futon in the living room.  Pao-lin planned to sleep next to Sam so he wouldn’t have any destructive freakouts about waking up alone in a strange place.  They’d already moved her luggage into the room and laid out her futon.  It felt like the slumber party was over, even if his understanding of sleepovers was that very little sleeping happened.  It felt like that first night in the Academy dorms with Edward, when they went from unpacking and getting to know each other to awkwardly changing into pajamas, brushing their teeth, and trying to sleep; for Ivan’s part, he remembered being very aware of how loud his own breathing was and how loud Edward’s was. 

So he took a shower and changed into his yukata, and sat on top of his futon with his DS — ever since Barnaby had recognized the slime toy he’d been wanting to pick up one of the Dragon Quest games — to play until he felt like sleeping.  He knew he had some level grinding to do, so the odds were good that he would get sleepy, rather than playing all night. 

He did get into the zone enough to be surprised when Pao-lin stepped out of the bedroom, though, closing the door softly behind her.  She was wearing a tee-shirt and pair of soft, cotton-looking pants; naturally the shirt was yellow, and the pants black with some kind of pattern that he finally identified as bumblebees when she got close enough.  “I brought my DS but I think I’m too tired to play anything,” she said, plopping down next to his futon.

“I’m just playing a Dragon Quest game.  I don’t think we could really do anything multiplayer that way.”  He snapped the case shut.

“Isn’t there some kind of monster arena deal in one of them?” she asked,laying down on the floor.  “I dunno.  I usually play faster-moving games than that.  I should start bringing games to the training center, huh?”

“So should I,” he said.  Then, in a burst of courage, “Or you could come over again.”

She grinned at him.  “Or both.”

“Or both.” 

They stayed smiling at each other for just long enough that Ivan was embarrassed, his heart beating faster than normal, when he looked away.  “Thanks for having us here,” she said.  “It was a lot of fun.” 

“It was,” he agreed softly.  “I’m glad you came over.” 

“I’m glad I got to see Sam again, too,” she said.  “I know he traumatized everybody with the telekinetic tantrums, but he’s really cute.”

“He is,” Ivan said.  “And he hasn’t done much damage this time.  Knock on wood,” he added, looking around and finally bopping his knuckles against one of the tatami mats — the floor was wood underneath them.  “I think Fire Emblem was just freaking out for show.”

“Oh, of course,” she agreed.  “I just didn’t know what you thought of him.” 

Even if he hadn’t liked Sam at the outset — which he had — Sam had basically facilitated all of this, so Ivan owed him big-time.  “I like Sam a lot,” Ivan said.  “I can totally see why you’re attached to him.”

She smiled at him again, and in one of those Dragon-Kid maneuvers that always blew Ivan’s mind (and made Tiger groan and talk about his knees,) she somehow got from her reclining position to her feet in one seamless movement.  “I need to sleep,” she said.  “And you need to get to a church to save, right?”

“Yeah,” he admitted.  “Good night, Pao-lin.” 

“Night, Ivan.” 

He waited until he heard the bedroom door click shut again before he pulled his game back out.  As he navigated his party back to town, though, he was thinking about the next morning.  He knew there was a park with a playground not too far from his apartment, if they had Sam for a while the next day.  He’d just need to remember exactly where it was.

****