((Follows on from Escape From New York. Contains reference to adult situations.))

There are few things anyone dreads more than the sight of an ambulance outside their home as they return from being away. Having been allowed back to work, Vicki's hours had settled to their familiar routine of nine to three at the theater, and thanks to that enlightening experience of being literally in Jon's shoes toward the latter end of her pregnancy, she'd been making more of an effort to present herself properly when she left the house. This, however, backfired on her as she drew up the big house, her eyes worriedly on the ambulance that stood out the front. It was virtually impossible to move at speed in heels over gravel without tipping herself onto her face, forcing her to take her time in getting to the steps.

Tense concern gripped her heart as she pushed into the house - was Humph all right' Or was the ambulance for Emily' Jon' She didn't bother calling to anyone as she entered, running up the stairs to burst into the rooms she shared with Jon, hurrying over to where Emily was still in the midst of her afternoon nap. "Oh, thank God," Vicki murmured to herself in relief, stroking her fingertip down Emily's cheek before turning away. Where was everyone else?

Vicki's question would be answered soon enough as Cosmo bounded his way up the stairs to greet his mistress with a single bark and the wag of a tail. Whatever was going on, Emily had slept through it all, even the bark from Cosmo, who had returned from his adventure in the basement at last to check on his puppy and greet his mistress' on her return home.

Hearing the familiar scrabble of paws on wood before the bark made itself known, Vicki felt herself smiling as she turned to crouch down and greet the over-enthusiastic bundle of fluff that was their dog. "Fancy seeing you here, Cosmopolitan," she chuckled, scritching beneath the dog's ears fondly. "Where is everyone, hmm' The baby's alive and well, and judging by how excitable you are, I shouldn't think Humph or Jon are getting in that ambulance." She leaned forward, rubbing her cheek against the top of Cosmo's head fondly. "What did I miss, fluffball?"

The dog had learned this was one human who didn't appreciate getting slobbered on, and yet, he couldn't help but show his affection for her by licking her cheek. Of course, she could ask all she wanted, but Cosmo had no way of communicating with her what had happened, unless he could convince her to follow him downstairs to the basement. He barked once more, as if to tell her to follow, and wiggled out of her grasp to turn back for the stairs in search of his master.

Predictably enough, Vicki grimaced as Cosmo licked her, giving him a gentle shove away with a stern, "No," to reiterate her no licking rule. The bark made her roll her eyes at him as she stood up, glancing into the crib to check on Emily just once more before she followed him out of the room. "You know, you'd think that being in Rhy'Din, you would have learned how to talk by now," she commented to the Collie's rear end as she followed him down the stairs, frowning at the sight of an unfamiliar man being carried from the house on a stretcher, an equally unfamiliar woman hurrying along after him. "What the hell has been going on?"

Cosmo led his mistress through the big house until they reached the stairs that led to the basement, where he waited a moment for her to catch up before continuing on, scrambling down those stairs to find his master, past the safe room where Jon and Vicki had ended up at least once when emergency had called for a hasty escape, down the hall to the washroom, canine instincts leading the way to his master.

Humphrey was audible in his study as they passed through the foyer, making Vicki wince with sympathy for whoever he was chewing out. Though he'd never gone to town on her, she'd heard a few horror stories about the Old Man's temper. Still, she was following a dog, so who was she to talk" At the bottom of the stairs, she didn't even glance at the safe room, not particularly wanting to revisit those memories, and hurried to quicken her step, catching on to where Cosmo was leading her. "Jon' Jon, are you there?"

A little lost in his own thoughts, the sound of running water drowning out Vicki's voice, Jon didn't hear her calling him as he scrubbed the blood from his hands and shirt. He wasn't really sure why he was bothering with the shirt, when he had so many to take its place. It just seemed like the thing to do, for some reason. The towels lay in a pile, the water in the sink running red with the wounded man's blood. Now that the excitement was over, he had turned thoughtful and worried, hoping Des' friend would be okay and that the danger was over.

He might have missed Vicki calling to him, but there was no way in hell he was going to miss her exclamation as she walked in behind him. Her eyes went straight to the blood, and her mind went straight to the worst conclusion. "Jon, what the hell happened?" Vicki burst out, lurching hurriedly from the doorway to take hold of his arm, pulling him around to search his skin for any injury. "Are you all right, what happened?"

Thankfully, by the time she found him, he had scrubbed most of the blood from his hands, though the water in the sink was a sickly shade of pink. It looked a lot worse than it was, at least as far as Jon was concerned. "Vicki, I'm fine," he was quick to reassure her. "It's not my blood," he explained, knowing how things must look. For all the blood on the towels and in the sink, there wasn't a mark on him. "Is Emily okay' I shouldn't have left her alone up there." There was a worried look on his face, though there were plenty of other people in the house who would look in on the baby is she started to fuss.

"She's fine, I've just been up to check on her." His wife frowned at him, not happy with how quick he was to dismiss the fact that he was covered in blood. "You need to answer my question, Jon. Our daughter is still asleep upstairs, Humphrey is snapping at someone in his study - you are down here, covered in blood, and don't give me that "I'm fine" crap. You're obviously not fine, or you wouldn't be within ten feet of the panic room!"

"No, you don't have to do anything," Vicki told him firmly. "Just because you're family, it doesn't mean you have to go rushing off and throwing yourself in at the deep end. Sometimes all you can do is be there, just in case someone needs to talk, or someone needs a place to stay. Family doesn't mean rushing in with guns blazing, Jon. You can't solve this." She drew him down, gently brushing her lips to his, trying to calm him down a little. "I think you need to read the script that arrived today," she told him matter-of-factly, employing distraction finally, since common sense wasn't working. "And bear in mind that Mataya got the same one this morning herself."

They'd been over this before - after his trip back from her past, when he'd felt an overwhelming sense of guilt for her mother's death. He wasn't sure why he always felt the need to do something, that he wasn't doing enough, that he was only an actor and no one of any great consequence. He wasn't a hero, at least not in his own mind. He was only himself. He nodded again, knowing she was right. He returned her kiss, which did more to soothe him than any drug. "What script?" he asked, as she piqued his interest, and skillfully changed the subject, distracting him from his sour thoughts. He furrowed his brows at the mention of his best friend. "'Tay got a script' She doesn't do movies anymore."

"You know, that's what she kept saying over and over," his wife chuckled, smoothing her hands from his back to twine her fingers with his own. It was time to get him back upstairs, to where things were a little more normal and not so ....bloodied. "Seriously, the woman flounced into my office this morning, threw a script down on the desk, and demanded to know if you were gonna do it, because if you're not, neither is she. You could be in for an argument if you say no, though - she seems really excited about whatever it is. Apparently the cover letter states that it was written with both of you in mind."

Jon arched a brow. It seemed his wife had once again managed to distract and derail him from his upset over the attack on his family and the aftermath with talk of a new movie offer that included his oldest and closest friend. "You're kidding me, right' Mataya is thinking about doing a movie?" he asked, sounding pretty skeptical.

"I kid you not," Vicki informed him with a grin, drawing him out of the washroom and back toward the stairs that led up toward house proper, Cosmo loping along ahead of them in his hyperactive way. "She seemed pretty excited about it, really. I assumed it was a good script, but if you haven't checked the post yet today, then I suppose I'm just going to have to hover over you annoyingly until you at least skim the thing, aren't I?"

His fingers twined with hers as she led him out of the basement. He didn't much like being underground, even if it was only the basement beneath the big house at Maple Grove. Being underground made him feel claustrophobic and, though he didn't consciously realize it, triggered memories of the catacombs beneath the city. He was even chuckling in his usual good-natured way at her teasing. "You're going to hover over me until I skim an entire movie script' That could take all night."

"Well, it's hover over you trying not to be distracting, or read it to you until you give in and call Mataya for her opinion," Vicki laughed over her shoulder at him. Like Jon, she'd developed a dislike of basements in general, though her discomfort with being underground went straight back to being strapped onto a table by an insane ghoul. She breathed more easily when they reached the ground floor, walking through the shafts of afternoon sunlight that pierced the windows. "What can I say' I've been wanting to ask you about it all bloody day!"

He snorted another chuckle. She obviously hadn't looked at herself in a mirror lately. Yes, he'd noticed the slinky dress that hugged her curves and the sexy heels on her feet. "As if you're not distracting enough already," he mumbled, mostly to himself as she led him up the stairs to the ground floor and the very welcome shafts of sunlight. "Okay, tell you what....I'll look at it over dinner. Deal?" His entire mood seemed to lighten as they left the basement behind, no more fond of dark, damp spaces than she was and for mostly the same reasons. There were too many bad memories there, things that still haunted their dreams.

She sighed exaggeratedly, raising his hand until his arm was draped over her shoulders as they began to mount the stairs up to the next floor, steadfastly ignoring the intriguing burble of voices still making themselves known from Humphrey's study. "Well, I suppose I'll just have to make do with that," she conceded with teasingly bad grace. "So long as you think of some way to make it up to me. A girl can't spend all day in anticipation and then be let down without something to make it all worth it."

"Mmm..." He pursed his lips, appearing thoughtful for a moment as if he had to think it over. "You could wash my back," he started, his lips curling in amusement. "And I could wash your front." Of course, that all depended on what Emily had in mind. He did his best to ignore the muffled voice coming from Humphrey's study, not because he didn't care, but because it was really none of their business.

Vicki's mind seemed to be moving along the same lines as his. "Well, now, that all really depends on what time Emily went down, doesn't it?" she mused, rubbing her cheek against his bare shoulder affectionately. "Because if Daddy was a soft touch and didn't enforce nap-time, we've got about another hour and a half, but if he did do naps on time, she'll be awake any minute. So I suppose the question there is ..." She lifted her eyes to his, grinning impishly. "Just how under the thumb have you been all day?"

"Oh, I think we may have a little leeway before Little Miss Spoiled starts screaming for attention," he replied with a smirk. They both knew he was a softie when it came to Emily, and since he was on break between filming and the theater, he was playing Mr. Mom and could afford to be a little more lenient.

She laughed out loud at the not-quite-confession of guilt, rolling her eyes up at him as she turned from the stairs toward the privacy of their own door, glad to have him distracted from the unpleasant events downstairs, even if it was only for a little while. "You're such a soft touch," she grinned up at her husband, turning to walk backwards, drawing him after her with gentle hands at his hips. "She's going to be a nightmare when she starts playing you."

Vicki couldn't help smiling at how serious he'd become as he stripped her of her dress, following along with a gentle sway in her step thanks to the heels she had yet to take off. "Oh, the possibilities," she laughed softly, letting her fingers flex within the curl of his, glad that Emily was old enough now to sleep in a different room. They weren't going to disturb her nap-time by enjoying each other. This was certainly one way to be welcomed home from work.

It was only fair, since she had welcomed him home that same way many times before. "Have you been picking up tips from the Fifty Shades ....movies?" he asked, with a smirk as he came to a halt not far from their bed, far enough away from the baby that they wouldn't disturb her sleep, but close enough that they'd hear her if she woke up. He lowered himself onto his knees, his hands sliding down along her body, lips leaving a slow trail of kisses against her stomach, which - as far as he could tell - had returned to its pre-pregnancy state. His arms went around her hips to grab hold of her bottom and pull her close as lips and tongue traced tender kisses against her bare skin.

The question made her laugh, not entirely understanding the inference and, to be honest, a little too distracted by the enticing play of lips and hands over her skin. "What?" Copper hair spilled forward over her shoulders as she looked down at him, swaying into the lean of him where he knelt before her under the wrap of his arms about her, fingers playing in and out of his hair. A quiet moan rippled from her throat as she gazed down at him, rising higher onto her toes as he teased her. "You lost me."

"Never mind," he murmured. "Not important." Certainly not as important as making love to his wife. His hands trailed upwards, but instead of unclasping her bra and removing it completely, he tugged the fabric downwards, the curve of her breasts spilling into the cup of his hands, while his lips moved lower, leaving a soft trail of kisses against the lace of her panties, lower and dangerously lower, feeling the heat of her beneath his lips, setting his own body on fire.

"Jon ..." Her voice was a soft whine of pleasure as he turned his focus up another few notches, a little surprised by the half-job he was making of her underwear, but more than a little aroused by it. Somehow, Jon always managed to do something unexpected that shocked her entirely onto him, narrowing her thoughts and feelings until he was all she could comprehend. Her fingers smoothed over his shoulder, up into his hair, to grip and tug gently as she shuddered under his touch.

He didn't stop there, of course, nor did he waste any time. If there was one thing that could distract him from his troubled thoughts, it was making love to his wife, and it was something he looked forward to doing as often as possible. Now that Emily was old enough to sleep a few hours between feedings, Vicki's needs were definitely not neglected. In fact, if they weren't careful, she was going to find herself in a family way again soon enough, the way they were going. He played her body skillfully, knowing every inch of her and yet always managing to surprise her and be surprised. Tender kisses and caresses stoked the fire in her before he'd even stripped her of the last lacy vestiges of lingerie that were the only barrier between them.

It wasn't just Vicki's needs that were being tended to whenever they had time to enjoy one another. She was virtually impossible to hold still unless he asserted himself, rising to meet his warmth, his desire, with her own, curling her arms around him as her knees began to buckle under his insistent tenderness. His name was a quiet plea on her lips as she tugged at his hair, falling back onto the bed when the strength in her limbs gave out, rising to a cresting peak she couldn't deny herself at Jon's hands. And even then, she didn't pause, reaching to draw him to her as she grinned up at him. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were getting better at that."

"Practice makes perfect," he replied with a smile as he moved over her, fingers nudging the purple panties from her hips at last and down her long legs, past ankles, and over those shoes that made her look like sex on two legs. He left the heels and the bra where they were, finding her oddly more captivating in that state of rumpled half-undress. He tossed her panties carelessly over his shoulder before covering her with his body again, growling against her ear and murmuring a whisper: "I want you."

"Oh, I'll never deny you chances to keep practicing," she promised him through her tender grin, her hands smoothing over his back as he leaned over her, arching up in a very physical welcome to the intimacy she so loved to share with her husband. The growl made her shudder, her grip on him tightening as she moaned in answer. "Get on with it, then," Vicki purred into Jon's ear, tugging on his earlobe with her teeth as she drew her hands down his back, forcing a little space between them to get his jeans off him before things got too urgent to handle.

Somehow he managed to get his jeans off without too much trouble, followed by his shorts, and at her urging, did as she asked. No more time wasted, taking advantage of every last minute of freedom that Emily allowed. He filled her with himself, coming together as one, moving together in the familiar dance of passion shared between two lovers. Together they climbed the slope of passion, cresting the summit, and plummeting over edge amid a tangle of arms and legs and a cadence of whispered moans and entreaties, until at last the fire mellowed and they settled into a lazy embrace, breathless and completely satiated.

A last wriggle to toss the bra over the side of the bed, and Vicki relaxed into Jon's arms, ignoring the thuds as her heels finally fell off her feet to hit the floor hard. Her lips nuzzled fondly at his chest as she smiled contentedly, lifting her head to transfer that tenderness to his lips. "I love my husband," she murmured dreamily to him, reluctant once more to release him from their tangle of limbs, at least for a little while longer.

"He loves you, too," Jon murmured back, almost as sleepily, though it was nowhere near time for bed yet. The days of lounging in bed for hours on end were mostly over now that they had a small child who was solely dependent on them for all her needs. It made these quiet moments between them both rare and precious, to be cherished and taken advantage of whenever they presented themselves. He returned her kiss with equal fondness before rolling onto his back so he would not risk crushing her. His fingers brushed her cheek as he pushed her hair away from her face. "I must be the happiest, luckiest man in all of Rhy'Din."