They had been talking about it for months. Jokingly, at first, something that one of them had brought up on a drunken whim. It had become a bit of a running joke for a while. But then the idea had started to stick, to be thrown out as an actual suggestion rather than a humorous jab. Then they had gotten rather attached to it, to the hypothetical household addition.
But they had put it off, one or both of them always busy with one thing or another, or (in Skylar's case, anyway) in mortal danger of some kind.
But, Reid figured, if there was any good time for him to go ahead with this, this was certainly it, now that Skylar had taken to mostly just locking herself in her room and jumping at every door slam or sound of unexpected footsteps.
He was sure she was undoubtedly in panic mode already as he noisily stumbled into the flat, clumsily trying to juggle his keys, his messenger bag, and the extra bit of fluffy luggage he was carefully holding against his chest, hopping on one foot and using the other to shut the door behind him.
"Skylar," he called out, loud enough to be heard through her locked door but his tone still gentle, "come out here. I- did a thing."
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