He calls her Minnie, sometimes. It just slips out while he's explaining something else, or telling a story - mind focused solely on the end-goal of what he's saying and not so much on every word in between, the way he gets sometimes when his guard is down. Juno says he's not like that often, and Minerva would argue that it happens plenty often around her, if Juno would ever take her word for it.
She catches him once, slips into a pause for breath - "What did you call me, Wayne Newton?"
(She doesn't have to use his whole name, he reminds her sometimes. Maybe someday she won't. But for now, she wants to say the whole thing, to specify to the universe that this is the one she's talking to, this is the one she found out of countless, countless choices. There is only one like him anywhere, and he's hers.)
"Uh," he answers, and she can see the way he loses his train of thought and carefully retraces the tracks. "You mean 'Minnie'? Not, uh, not feeling it?"
"'Mini'? Do you mean to suggest that I am small?" It is a ridiculous notion, especially since she picked him up to carry to bed only the previous evening.
"No! No, not that, it's. It's a nickname, kinda? LIke, uh," he scrambles, "Like Minnie Mouse?"
Minerva isn't sure what an especially small mouse has to do with their conversation. The strange thought does nothing to help her grasp his meaning. "Mice are also small." Duck groans, and Minerva chuckles at his expression of distress. "No matter, Wayne Newton. You may call me whatever you like, even if it is something like 'mouse.'"
There are things implied in what she says - that he has special permission, like she does with his name. That she trusts him not to make a joke at her expense that she won't understand, not to choose something she would dislike if she understood it better. That these little, ridiculous moments between them were valuable to her, too.
"Uh yeah, okay, fine." He's blushing, trying to hide his face, and she's smiling. She suspects, if she were to turn his face back towards her, Duck would be smiling, too. Minerva never knew she wanted this, but she does; making him blush, making him smile, is a powerful, joyful feeling. More than that, it's a softer feeling than Minerva ever thought she’d have again.
He calls her Mouse, sometimes. Usually when it's just the two of them, when everything is quiet and calm. "Almost ready for bed, Mouse," he'll ask, leaning over the back of the couch to wrap his arms loosely over her shoulders and rest his head next to hers. "Not quite, Mouse," he'll chuckle as she tries to connect the pieces of culture in a world that's still new to her, before he explains. His face, glowing with a special kind of content happiness she's seen more of since the end of everything she'd prepared him for, looking down at the shoots of a little garden they'd planted together: "You did good, Mouse."
And when he calls her that, his own name for her, she knows that he is telling her there is no one like her anywhere, and she's his.
also uhm uhh... if you're ok with sharing/shipping f/os with others, it's fun to ship your f/os together and imagine yourself shuffling in and getting comfy between them hehe
“jude is, first of all, the most understanding man on the planet. i mean, he puts up with colleen and me on a daily basis. and he just has such a good, loving heart- it’s something that’s hard to find a lotta times. i love him so much.”
❝ you really think so, vaggie ? ❞ she asks, a smile on her face that replaced the frown that lingered. as much as she tried to remain POSITIVE, her father’s voice was always in the back of her head. it was easy to feel like she was ready to give up... it was a good thing that she had vaggie by her side to clear whatever clouds form in her head.
arms wrap around the smaller female, pressing a kiss on her cheek. ❝ i really don’t deserve someone like you. ❞
