Summary: The Child gets his sneaky little hands on a blaster and you hit your head trying to get it away from him. Mando panics and acts all worried for your safety, but he also was the one to give him the blaster.
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"Give it to me." You tried to make your voice calm and collected but failed miserably. The Child's lips curled upward again and you on the verge of exploding. The little monster thought that you were playing a game with him. And a game it was not. "If Mando finds out that you took a blaster from a locked cabinet under my watch, he's going to kill me!" you exclaimed. "I'm dead. So dead."
Talking him out of it was definitely not going to work. So, that meant that there were two options left; grabbing it yourself or begging for it, and you decided to go for the former and save the latter for more desperate times.
The Child gave you an inquisitive look and cocked his head slightly to the left. It was almost like he could see the gears in your brain turning, trying to figure out a way to get the blaster without causing an immediate tantrum. A tantrum would lead to the Mandalorian waking up. That awakening would lead to you being fired and that couldn't happen.
You tilted your head at an angle, trying to see if the blaster had its safety clasp on. After confirming its existence, you took your chance and jumped at the little monster. You made sure to hit the bottom of the Child's swaddled blankets softly, only with enough force to catch his feet off balance, so that he wouldn't get hurt. Then, you reeled your hand backward and gently slapped the blaster out of the Child's hands.
It fell onto the plush carpet of the Child's play station with an obnoxious jangle a few feet away from you. You winced, hoping that the Mandalorian hadn't woken up yet, but at least you had gotten the blaster away from him.
The Child looked down at the fallen instrument and then up at you in shock. Tears began welling up in his eyes and it was almost like he was saying, "How could you do this to me?"
Your heart ached for the green bean as his wide, shiny eyes turned even more glassy. You didn't like resorting to physical measures, but the Mandalorian would probably throw you out of the ship if he knew that the Child had gotten his hands on such a device while you were supposed to be watching him. And you couldn't bear to be separated from the baby, even if it meant that he'd hate you forever.
A glance at the door to the Mandalorian's quarters and a few moments of waiting proved that he was still sleeping. There was no sign of movement inside the room; no rustling of blankets or clanging of shifting beskar. However, in those seconds, the Child had gotten up and was waddling toward the blaster again.
The instant you saw the green bean heading toward the weapon, your heart stopped. You scrambled to try and get to the blaster before the foundling, but it was far too late. The baby was already there! The Child squatted down—more like falling down due to his tiny stature—to pick up the blaster again. Panicked, you reached out to swipe it from his arms, but it was in vain. Your hands were met with air.
