She's done every damn piece of laundry in the whole house. Hers. Iantos. The pillow that Delilah sleeps on. The blanket that Bill managed to pee all over. Everything. Some days, it feels like one of Ianto's favourite pastimes is bitching at her about dirty panties on the floor, yesterday's night-gown on the floor, so she'd gathered it all up
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Comments 17
"Alright, alright, hush now." With a few snaps of his fingers, he managed to achieve silence just as he came to the doorway of the bedroom. He leaned against it with his shoulder, an easy smile on his face before he could take in every detail of the scene.
"What's this? Laundry? Did you--" Charlie had laundry piled up around her and a bottle in her hand. She had a bottle in her hand, and Ianto braced himself for a smack to his face.
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She looked up, eyes red-rimmed but no evidence of tears on her face as she looked at him. She rubbed her thumb over the label of the bottle, turning it over in her hands.
"Is this what I think it is? And don't you even think about lying to me, Ianto."
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He took a moment to set his books and papers down on the bedside table, and to gather himself. "It is," he confirmed. He could see House's script, not quite doctorly enough to be illegible.
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She watched him as he moved around the bedroom and she noticed how little his eyes settled on her. Her mouth tightened a little.
"You could have told me."
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