an old fashioned brawl [[closed to John for H&M]]

[5thcolumnfed]

Erica really isn't worrying. Not at all. The pacing she's doing isn't worrying. It's just that her husband is out breaking up a fight when she would really love to be there. Not fighting, of course. No. Not punch throwing. Probably

Comments

[yippiekiyaymf]

She could probably figure out exactly what he was doing from the sounds, because he was a creature of routine. First he hung up his coat, then he went to check on the kids, looking in to see Angel peacefully asleep, and Puck probably out with Veronica or his other friends. Then he petted the dogs, and checked to see that they had water.

Then he went to the bedroom to look for Erica, but first, he stopped by the locked drawer where his gun was put as soon as it was taken off without fail.

Through all of it, except for a few words to the dogs, he hadn't spoken. After putting his gun up his weary steps took him to the bedroom door where he looked at her.

"Hey, Honey." His voice is tired, with more that physical weariness.

[5thcolumnfed]

"Hi baby," she says as she stands, examining to make sure he has no bruises and isn't limping.

Then her hands move to his chest. "Your pajama pants are warm. Waiting."

She ducks her head a little sheepishly.

"'Case I was wearing them."

[yippiekiyaymf]

He chuckles.

"Then I can't wait to get into them." He places his hands over hers, and leans forward to touch heads with her, and kisses her forehead. Then he pulls back, to take off the holster, then his shirt.

[5thcolumnfed]

She lets him have his routine, she knows it's important. She's there for him when he's ready. She gathers up the clothes he's discarding and his holster, draping that over the chair in their bedroom.

"Fight get broken up okay?"