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40 Upper Brook Street, London
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July 2007
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John Sheppard [userpic]

John is sitting in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee. He's spent a while watching the twins sleep. He knows Gilly would be ecstatic if he woke her up for snuggling, but he can't quite bring himself to do it. So instead he made coffee and has hidden out.

He feels weird, here. There's no echo of ocean, and everything is just...wrong.


"I'm not arguing," she says, evenly.

"I'd like to keep it that way."

"Yeah." She doesn't know what else to say.

"Look. I understand you're mad. At me or...whatever. But I miss you. So if I have to sit here in silence to keep us from getting into it, I'm going to. As long as I get to see you."

"I'm not mad at you." Not...entirely, at least.

"Okay. Can you not be sitting so far away, then?"

"...mm." She hesitates for a few moments.

"...Please?" he pleads, quietly.

She was in a perfectly decent mood today. She's not sure why just talking to her husband has ruined it -- that shouldn't be how it works.

"Fine," she says, moving closer.

He doesn't touch her, yet. "If you really don't want me around right now...."

Her silence stretches suspiciously long. "That's not it."

He doesn't seem to belive her, but he lets it go. "What, then?"

"It's just not fucking fair." She closes her hands around the teacup, not looking at him. "Everything was fine."

"I know, baby. I know it's not fair. But I am going to fix it, and you're all going to come home."

"I have nothing to do except sit around and argue with teenagers."