So this is a quick short story that come from a head canon I had about the Judge being an overprotective godfather to Carmina if the captain was young and showed too much interest. Cuteness ensued when I decided to flesh out the idea little bit.
Johnathan Miller was young for a security captain. It’s what Rush had told him from the start.
“You’re too young, kid. I don’t need a Rookie in the field with me right now.”
But he’d given him a chance anyway and thank all the gods in the heavens he did because if he hadn’t Johnathan would never have met the beautiful, smart, wonderful Carmina Rye. He stared at her dreamily as he sat cleaning his gun, his face going a little dopey as he watched her playing with the kids in Prosperity.
He heard a subtle hiss behind him and turned.
“Oh, hey, Judge, don’t really need your help right now,” he told the old former deputy in a friendly tone. There was a small growl from under that unreadable mask and the Judge crossed his arms over his chest. “But, uh,” Johnathan continued uncomfortably, “thanks for stopping by?” Another hiss and the Judge leaned significantly against Prosperity’s wall, showing no sign of going anywhere anytime soon. Johnathan swallowed. “Okay, well, Carmina and I are going to go out on patrol.” The Judge stood back up at that, let another rippling growl out from beneath his mask.
“Why her?” he asked in a raspy, damaged voice. Johnathan wondered for the hundredth time what had happened to the Judge’s voice, but he hadn’t yet worked up the nerve to ask.
“Uhm, she’s really good with a gun? And, you know, she’s nice to spend time with.” That was clearly the wrong answer. The Judge pulled his hunting knife out and ran a thumb across it with a heavy breath, taking a glove off and picking at his nails casually. Johnathan swallowed again and then cleared his throat. “Unless, um. Unless you’d prefer to come instead, I guess.”
“Hmm,” the Judge hummed in that rough voice. “Sure,” he forced out and then coughed. Disappointed, Johnathan pulled his four-wheeler around and waited for the Judge to join, looking longingly back at Carmina until the Judge cleared his throat pointedly behind that mask he refused to take off.
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Johnathan smiled, rubbing his thumb gently on Carmina’s chin. She had her back against the wall of Prosperity and he had his hand on the wall above her, framing one side of her.
“So,” he said softly, looking into those gorgeous blue eyes. “Wanna get some beer and head down to the river?” he asked.
“Sure, Cap,” she said, her voice a purr that sent a chill down his spine in the best way. He grabbed a six pack of homebrewed beer made by Sharky and Hurk and followed her when she took his hand and drug him toward the dock just southeast of Prosperity’s back gates. They stripped to just their underwear and jumped in, giggling.
There was an angry snarl and Johnathan suddenly felt himself hauled out of the water by the scruff of his undershirt. He squawked, searching for a weapon and trying to get the water out of his eyes so he could see. The Judge plopped him on the dock and crossed his arms, somehow managing to look disapproving even without facial expressions visible.
“What the fuck, Judge?” The Judge growled, low and deep and picked up the beer, gestured at Johnathan and Carmina’s state of undress with a grunt that made it clear he did not approve.
“No,” was the only thing the Judge said. Carmina thought it was funny, but Johnathan was furious, especially when Kim and Nick Rye showed up a few moments later, also looking irritated. Kim put her hands on her hips.
“Carmina Rook Rye! What have we talked about with the beer?”
“Only when you’re around,” Carmina said lamely, pulling herself out of the water, her cheeks red with embarrassment. She shot the Judge a little look but he just tilted the chin of his mask up at her obstinately.
“And where are your clothes?” Nick demanded, hands on his hips.
“They’re right there, Dad, oh my God, you’re embarrassing me in front of Cap.”
Johnathan hadn’t heard the rest since the Judge had insistently pulled him away to go deal with more Highwaymen.
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Anytime Johnathan patrolled with Carmina, the Judge would, at some point, silently appear from out of the trees, arms crossed or hands on his hips, a nasty hiss in his throat. He had saved Johnathan and Carmina from a few close calls and never did quite trust Johnathan when he was alone with Carmina, which was rare because anytime he was alone with Carmina, the Judge would appear in a tree, or from around a corner. It was unnerving and absolutely infuriating. Johnathan never quite knew what he was thinking beneath that wooden mask.
Eventually, however, Johnathan got used to it.
Eventually, the Judge got used to him being around Carmina.
Eventually, after the Twins had been dealt with, the Judge got used to Johnathan and Carmina dating.
Eventually, Johnathan asked Carmina to marry him. And the Judge, as he always did, appeared again, this time as Johnathan’s best man.
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The Judge, old and creaking in his knee joints and his back never did get out of the habit of appearing suddenly and silently anywhere Carmina was near. That old protective streak never quite made it out of him.
But it was fortunate that he was so set in his ways, because one day he found her gathering firewood, a hand to her swollen belly, crying out. He had picked her up, carried her to Prosperity, back to Johnathan.
There were no pigs this time, no haybales, no planes, but the situation was just the same as it had been years before.
Johnathan, chagrined, but happy the Judge had saved the day, as he always seemed to, handed his new child to his gun for hire, Carmina’s godfather.
And to the surprise of everyone gathered, when the baby pried that old wooden mask from his face, the Judge, for once, did not object.
