Mother Hen

Pairings: Hanna/..., mentioned Conrad/Worth
Warnings: Swearing

Sort of short and pointless? I just love the idea of Worth as Hanna's stand-in mother XD

"You know," Hanna begins, looking up at his companion while they wait for the bartender to serve up the next round of drinks, "those things that Conrad always orders are actually pretty good. What d'you think is in them?"

The zombie just shrugs, watching the redhead's fingers drumming against the counter. Hanna keeps looking back at the table in the far corner, worried their friends will get impatient. "We can find out," he says eventually. "I could try making them for you."

That gets Hanna's full attention. The smaller man's eyes snap upwards to meet his.

"…Really?" Hanna presses, face a mix of blind adoration and barely contained glee. It's cute. The way the young man leans in towards him unconsciously, the way his eyes widen further than should be possible…

The dead man leans down to plant a quick kiss on warm lips. "Really," he says, mouth twitching into the barest of smiles as he watches Hanna's cheeks turn a shade of pink that clashes horribly with red hair. Then the drinks come, and Hanna almost spills Lamont's beer.

The zombie takes the rest, and when he turns to walk back to their table, Worth is glaring at him with the darkest scowl he has ever seen.

"Where th' fuck is my whiskey?" demands Worth, smacking his second empty glass down on the table. The doctor tips his head backwards to see what's taking Hanna and sidekick so damn long –

- only to be greeted with the sight of the dead man leaning down to kiss his patient. It's quick and chaste (no teeth, no tongues, what the fuck kind of kiss is that), but long enough for Hanna to kiss back. The zombie pulls away, says something that makes Hanna turn red, smiling down at the young man (huh, who knew? Frankenstein's monster can make expressions). Worth realizes he's scowling, lip curling back to bare his teeth, and his dark eyes meet with bright orange ones.

"Toucey," he snaps, digging a sharp elbow into Lamont's side. The delivery man yelps – Worth is bony enough for it to feel like a damn knife. "Smokin' break. Now."

"The fuck is your problem?" Lamont grumbles at him, rubbing his side. "I'm talking to Toni, go smoke by yourself."

Worth just glares at him, and…oh. Lamont knows that look. The "I'm not joking you prick" face. He sighs irritably, and excuses himself to Toni, but she doesn't mind because Hanna and employee are back with the drinks now. The Doctor growls out a curse under his breath at the zombie as he stands to leave, snatching up his whiskey without a word to storm outside, Lamont in tow.

The two emerge into the cold night air, Worth digging out his cigarette and lighter with one hand, downing his whiskey in one go with the other.

"You better be sharing," Lamont says, holding out a hand for the pack. "Dragged me out here…it's cold, you know."

"Shuddup," grunts Worth, lighting his own cigarette before throwing them at the shorter man. He takes a few angry puffs from the white cylinder before leaning back against the wall. "Gonna fuckin' kill 'im," he snarls. Pauses for a moment. "…Again."

"Who?" Lamont asks. "Conrad? What's he done now? You two were getting along just fine in there-"

"Not the fuckin' vampire," Worth hisses, jabbing a long finger in Lamont's direction. "The zombie."

The delivery man blinks. "What?"

"He kissed Hanna," Worth says darkly. "Dead man ain't got no business kissin' the kid like that."

Lamont rolls his eyes. "Really, Worth. Are you being jealous? Hanna's a little young for you, isn't he? And I thought you and Conrad-"

"Shut up about the fuckin' vampire!" Worth yells, and the whiskey glass drops from his hand, smashing against the ground. "…Shit. Look what you- fuck you, I ain't jealous! S'just…"

"Ah!" Lamont says, sudden understanding lighting up his features. "I get it. Careful now, Worth. You're letting your caring side slip."

"Piss off," he grumbles, poking at the shards of glass with the tip of his shoe.

"Mother hen," teases Lamont, grinning.

"If I'm the kid's mother, that makes you the father," Worth grunts.

"Hell no, no son of mine is turning out like Hanna. He's a good kid, but he's a damn idiot. And hey, that still makes you the woman," Lamont snickers. "But…the zombie seems nice, you know?"

"Kid deserves better," the doctor snaps back. "Someone livin', at least."

"Nobody's ever gonna be deserving enough in your eyes. You know that, right?" Lamont says plainly – then grins. "Besides. I don't think you're in a position to talk about dead partners."

"What part o' 'shut up about the fuckin' vampire' didja miss?!" Worth roars, throwing a fist towards the stocky man. Lamont dodges – just – before swinging a punch of his own, connecting with Worth's stomach. The doctor collapses backwards with a pained "Oof!"

"Whatever," Lamont smirks, shaking his hand out. "Leave the kid and his pet zombie alone, yeah? The guy takes good care of Hanna. And god knows the kid deserves some happiness." He stubs out his cigarette against the wall, turning to hurry back into the bar, leaving Worth to finish his smoke.

Somehow he ended up agreeing to give Hanna a piggyback ride home. He's glad the redhead weighs next to nothing – he's sure his stitches would break on a daily basis otherwise. And besides, the young man is more than a bit tipsy, and with the way he was swaying, he's not even sure Hanna could have walked home on his own. He can feel Hanna humming something into his shoulders – some corny love song that Veser was belting out in the bar – swinging his legs now and then.

"Hanna?" he asks, the humming pausing long enough for the redhead to make a questioning noise against his neck. "Does Worth…like you?"

"I guess…" Hanna shrugs. "He wouldn't fix me when I get hurt otherwise, you know?"

"No," the dead man corrects, "I meant, does he like you like I like you?"

"HAH! Oh, you're funny, Copernicus! Ewww. No. Definitely no," the redhead giggles into his coat. "I'm totally not his type anyway. I'm too nice."

"Modest, too," teases the zombie, but with his usual deadpan tone and the number of drinks consumed that evening, Hanna is too drunk to get it.

"But he looks out for me, y'know?" Hanna mumbles sleepily into his neck. "Like you do. But more like…like a mom or something." The dead man makes a noise of agreement, pondering over the dark looks Worth kept shooting him that evening. Like a mom, huh…?

He can't help but chuckle at the thought of Worth as his mother-in-law.