44 Blueberry Hill, Friday Evening
Since getting home from the hospital a few days ago with the twins, Sam had fallen into quite the comfortable routine. Okay, it wasn't a routine per se, but you could practically set your watch by the regularity with which he checked up on Phoebe, fussed over Persephone and Panthea, checked the thermostat (the girls were not going to experience a moment's temperature-related discomfort on his watch, oh no), and went back to fussing over the twins. Large chunks of the time in between those regular events tended to be devoted to just staring at the twins in complete awe.
Oh, and checking out the windows for any signs of unfamiliar visitors. That was pretty important.
There was a fire crackling away merrily in the fireplace, and the twins were sleeping peacefully (for now anyway) nearby; right now was one of the parts of the schedule that involved him watching them. Just watching them, an enraptured expression on his face. All told, this had been the best Christmas of Sam's life since he'd been living on a planet that had Christmas.
[OOC: Expecting a particular visitor, but family and friends are welcome to drop in!]
Oh, and checking out the windows for any signs of unfamiliar visitors. That was pretty important.
There was a fire crackling away merrily in the fireplace, and the twins were sleeping peacefully (for now anyway) nearby; right now was one of the parts of the schedule that involved him watching them. Just watching them, an enraptured expression on his face. All told, this had been the best Christmas of Sam's life since he'd been living on a planet that had Christmas.
[OOC: Expecting a particular visitor, but family and friends are welcome to drop in!]