Author's Note: This is the very first Shoot 'Em Up fanfic, ever. There's no action in it because I didn't see any when the burst of inspiration hit me. It's an attempt at humor. It's Smith so of course there's swearing, hence the T rating.
Disclaimer: Michael Davis and the New Line Cinema studio suits, please don't sue me..I'm broke.. I'm simply borrowing these characters.
The enticing aroma of omelettes, toast and coffee awoke Smith luring him out of the bedroom. His slightly callous hands rubbed his eyes before he let his right fingers drag against the corridor's smooth wall as he headed towards the kitchen. A slight grin pulled at his lips at the sound of Donna speaking Italian in her gentle voice to Oliver as gunfire came from the television. Six months earlier, he never imagined waking up in a home full of love and life; he was glad those days were behind him.
When they had first met in the brothel, he knew there was something about her that intrigued him; he couldn't figure it out until he saw her put Oliver to sleep for the very first time. The sight of her soothing him with her touch and words looked right and brought a sense of serenity to him. It was another side of her femininity that he had never seen. However, it pained him to see a reminder of the life that he once had but lost. So, he shot a complaint at her. Despite that, he knew they were each other's second chance at a normal life. Since that night, she proved to be a doting and protective mother, passionate lover and loyal partner.
His muscular form leaned against the kitchen's entrance allowing him to take in the view of her and Oliver performing their morning routine. Wearing only a robe and not a spot of makeup, she was the breathtaking combination of natural beauty and irresistible sensuality. The six-month-old happily sat in his high chair enjoying his breakfast. In quiet contentment he watched them until she noticed him.
Her pink perfect lips formed into a smile somehow managing to make her more beautiful than she already was, "Daddy's awake, Oliver," she said to their son as she fed him puréed carrots.
"Morning," he leaned down capturing her pillow lips with his own before planting a kiss on his son's forehead. The fresh scent of baby shampoo filled his nostrils invigorating every fiber of his being.
"Buongiorno amore mio," she handed him the jar of pureed carrots and stood up to place her mug and plate in the sink.
"What's playing?" he fed Oliver a spoonful then took a bite of toast.
"Equilibrium, he likes the shooting, it calms him down."
With pride in his voice he answered, "He is his father's son. Besides, Baby Einstein is such bullshit."
She shook her head and sat down next to him, "As I was giving him his bath this morning I realized..he is the only the American in this family."
"So, he's going to pick up one of our accents. I want it to be mine," she rested her head on his shoulder.
"Because it sounds better than yours. I don't want him saying, 'Tally ho pip pip.'"
Confused and a little offended he looked at her, "When the fuck have I ever said that?"
"Never..it's just the Italian accent is beautiful and sensual."
"Yeah right, like he's gonna get laid telling girls about his spicy meatballs," he flatly stated.
"Stop, Italians are fighters and lovers, you know that's true," she playfully tapped his bicep.
With a stoic stare he told her, "The scratches on my back and ass prove that."
Her lips curled into a proud smile, "You know you love it, Smith."
She was right but he wasn't going to let her know it. He pressed on with their conversation, "He's gonna take after me."
"Not when it comes to tipping, you're lousy at it," she stood up.
"My tip to you was making you cum every time we fucked," he said with blatant arrogance in his soft deep accent.
Her eyes narrowed as she folded her arms, "I faked it every time."
His head slowly shook, "No you didn't."
He was right but she wasn't going to let him know it, "I have to take a shower. I packed his bag and his bottles are ready," she pecked his mouth and then Oliver's chubby cheek, "Have a fun day with Daddy, my little boy."
When she entered the bathroom she left the door ajar and listened in.
"Honestly, I couldn't give a shit about whose accent you get. I want you to grow up to be a good man. Your mother and I are gonna do everything we can to make that happen. Then, you'll be able to meet a woman just like your mother. One who's loving, strong, bright, beautiful and she'll have a sweet back door that she'll let you tap."
Tears welled up in her eyes as her hand went over her heart trying to contain the joy growing within it.
"You know what I hate?"
An exasperated sigh came from her, she loved him but he was still the same old Smith.
"I hate how she thinks I don't know that she listens in on our morning chats," he moved his head to look down the corridor and saw her open the bathroom door.
Scowling, she yelled at him, "Tio odio bastardo!"
With a smirk on his handsome face he replied in his baritone voice, "I love it when you talk like that."
After slamming the door shut she turned on the shower to mask her chuckling.
"You know what I love? Doing that to her," he smiled when Oliver's sweet laugh filled the air followed by the sound of him chomping down on a carrot.