Stability (Peter, Aly and phone!Saul)
Peter was exhausted. He had been relaying messages back and forth between Jerome and Saul and Dead Meat contacts everywhere, as well as playing Daddy and Hospital Owner and Friend and every single one of the other roles he fulfilled on a daily basis. So when his wife Aly found him standing in their kitchen pantry looking lost, she wasn't terribly surprised.
"Oh, Peter." She took his hand and she led him out of the pantry slowly, back into the light of their kitchen. Peter looked slightly saddened and he turned to her with the lost look still very present on his face.
"I was looking for something."
"I gathered that," Aly said with a shake of her head. "Though I shudder to think how long you had been looking for whatever it was. Are you hungry, Peter?" When Peter was distracted, or busy, or being very Peter-like, sometimes he forgot to eat. A friend of his was missing, it was safe to say he was distracted.
"I think so," Peter said, sounding less than intelligent. He smiled at his wife then, thoroughly distracted now by her presence, rather than anything else. Her hair was now long enough to be stuck up in a rather messy ponytail, which he found inherently charming. She was wearing red, and he loved that. He reached for her hand and he gave it a small kiss. "I'm hungry for something."
At that, Aly burst out laughing, and Peter looked both confused and slightly crushed. When he could form words, the only one that seemed appropriate was, "why?"
Aly looked at him, tears streaming from her eyes as she laughed and laughed. "You...ahahhaha, you have no idea how weird it is to have one half of me who finds that incredibly sexy while the other half screams 'gross! Oh good god, make it stop, oh the humanity!'"
Peter's expression became dry, though now he understood and found the explanation to be satisfactory enough to soothe his wounded ego. "Oh, wonderful."
Aly giggled and she kissed Peter's hand like he had hers. "Come on, Mister Smooth. You can eat off of me and satisfy both appetites at once."
That was the ticket! Peter beamed and he bounced a little and when he opened his mouth, the opening bars of Walking on Sunshine filled the kitchen from his jeans pocket. "Oh, bother! Bother! Bother bollocky bother!" Peter grumbled, dancing around to try to fish his ringing mobile out of his pocket. "Son of a motherfucking bothe- A HAH!" Peter then composed himself and he answered with a rather calm, "Peter Kemp speaking." Aly smirked.
The smirk slid from her face as the conversation Peter was having looked as if it was turning serious. "You're sure," Peter said quickly, and then he reached out for Aly's hand again, the contact much different this time. It wasn't affection he was going for, it was stability. And Aly always offered that for him. "Adrian is there? W...what are they doing to him?"
And when the answer was forthcoming, Peter closed his eyes against the pain of it. His expression crumpled and he took a deep and steadying breath. To his great relief, Aly's grip tightened around his hand and he found himself even in his grief. "We'll be there soon," Peter said quietly. Firmly. "We'll take him away from that. I understand. Thank you, Saul."
When Peter had terminated the conversation, he lifted his eyes to meet Aly's. "Raincheck?" he asked, he voice small and sad.
"You know it," she assured him, and then she stepped forward to embrace her brave husband with arms, wings and love. He looked like he needed it.
"Oh, Peter." She took his hand and she led him out of the pantry slowly, back into the light of their kitchen. Peter looked slightly saddened and he turned to her with the lost look still very present on his face.
"I was looking for something."
"I gathered that," Aly said with a shake of her head. "Though I shudder to think how long you had been looking for whatever it was. Are you hungry, Peter?" When Peter was distracted, or busy, or being very Peter-like, sometimes he forgot to eat. A friend of his was missing, it was safe to say he was distracted.
"I think so," Peter said, sounding less than intelligent. He smiled at his wife then, thoroughly distracted now by her presence, rather than anything else. Her hair was now long enough to be stuck up in a rather messy ponytail, which he found inherently charming. She was wearing red, and he loved that. He reached for her hand and he gave it a small kiss. "I'm hungry for something."
At that, Aly burst out laughing, and Peter looked both confused and slightly crushed. When he could form words, the only one that seemed appropriate was, "why?"
Aly looked at him, tears streaming from her eyes as she laughed and laughed. "You...ahahhaha, you have no idea how weird it is to have one half of me who finds that incredibly sexy while the other half screams 'gross! Oh good god, make it stop, oh the humanity!'"
Peter's expression became dry, though now he understood and found the explanation to be satisfactory enough to soothe his wounded ego. "Oh, wonderful."
Aly giggled and she kissed Peter's hand like he had hers. "Come on, Mister Smooth. You can eat off of me and satisfy both appetites at once."
That was the ticket! Peter beamed and he bounced a little and when he opened his mouth, the opening bars of Walking on Sunshine filled the kitchen from his jeans pocket. "Oh, bother! Bother! Bother bollocky bother!" Peter grumbled, dancing around to try to fish his ringing mobile out of his pocket. "Son of a motherfucking bothe- A HAH!" Peter then composed himself and he answered with a rather calm, "Peter Kemp speaking." Aly smirked.
The smirk slid from her face as the conversation Peter was having looked as if it was turning serious. "You're sure," Peter said quickly, and then he reached out for Aly's hand again, the contact much different this time. It wasn't affection he was going for, it was stability. And Aly always offered that for him. "Adrian is there? W...what are they doing to him?"
And when the answer was forthcoming, Peter closed his eyes against the pain of it. His expression crumpled and he took a deep and steadying breath. To his great relief, Aly's grip tightened around his hand and he found himself even in his grief. "We'll be there soon," Peter said quietly. Firmly. "We'll take him away from that. I understand. Thank you, Saul."
When Peter had terminated the conversation, he lifted his eyes to meet Aly's. "Raincheck?" he asked, he voice small and sad.
"You know it," she assured him, and then she stepped forward to embrace her brave husband with arms, wings and love. He looked like he needed it.