((Fair warning - this is Jon and Vicki. Adult material is a given.))
Humphrey Granger, for all his advancing years, never seemed short of entertainment these days. Indeed, since Jon and Vicki had moved into the manor with him, scarcely a day had gone by without some amusement or drama to keep the Old Man occupied. Today, however, seemed a little different. Vicki had gone out on her own - not unusual, but for the fact that she was dressed so smartly - and had returned a few minutes before now. She had not, however, come back into the house. No, she'd left her shoes and bag just inside the front door, turned on her heel, wrenched a random branch from the hydrangea Humphrey hated anyway, and was even now conducting a spirited whipping on the trunk of the great redwood. The Old Man had a perfect view from his study window. He certainly wasn't going to go out there during what looked like the temper tantrum to end all others. He smirked faintly. He could hear her cursing and yelling at no one from here.
Jon had just awoken from a nap, having spent half the night up pacing the floors with a collicky Emily, the morning spent going over his lines for the upcoming play at the theater. The best advice ever given them after having Emily had been, "When she sleeps, you sleep," and Jon had taken that advice and crashed hard on the couch while Emily napped between feedings. She was, for the most part, a good baby, but even good babies had their odd bad days and nights, which trickled down to their parents. When he awoke, he found Vicki had slipped out somewhere without leaving word, but he figured she wouldn't be gone long. As fate would have it, Emily awoke, as well, fussing and demanding to be fed, just as Jon was about to go downstairs and fix himself some lunch.
Perfect timing, he thought, wondering where Vicki had disappeared to. He rubbed his eyes and stretched, looking more than a little rumpled from his nap, before scooping up their little bundle of joy and sticking a pacifier in her mouth so he could go warm up a bottle. It was then that his attention was drawn to the window upon hearing some small racket going on outside the manor, not expecting to find his wife there cussing up a storm and whacking - was that a branch' - against the redwood tree. Emily chose that moment to spit out her pacifier and wail loudly, demanding sustenance either from her mother's breast or the equivalent, and Jon sighed wearily. He loved being a husband and father, but some days were just exhausting, and it was opening night at the theater, to boot.
Downstairs, Humphrey chuckled to himself as a particularly hard blow from Vicki's branch snapped the whole thing and threw her wildly off-balance, tipping the usually perfectly well behaved woman arse over tip onto the grass. She sat there in her heap for a long moment, visibly steaming at some unknown injury to her pride and temper, and finally pulled herself back up again, moving to rip a new piece from the shrub to resume her attack on the unassuming redwood.
Jon slipped into a pair of shoes and padded down the stairs with the wailing Emily cradled in his arms. He tried to hush her, but she just went on wailing, and his nerves were already frayed from the night before. It was no wonder Vicki was beating on a tree. Jon wondered if he should join her. Almost tripping over Cosmo, who was suddenly underfoot and barking loudly in answer to Emily's wail, Jon cussed softly to himself, feeling a headache coming on. He couldn't call in sick to the theater on opening night, but if he didn't get at least a little sleep, he was going to be useless. It didn't take long to warm up a bottle and pacify the screaming baby, but by that time, Jon's head was throbbing, and he still had Vicki to deal with.
Catching sight of Humphrey in the study as he passed by, he pushed his way into the room looking a little rough around the edges. "What the hell is she doing out there?" he asked sharply, very unlike his usual calm deameanor.
The Old Man barely glanced over his shoulder as he heard Jon's footsteps, dragging his gaze more fully away from the scene outside as he registered Emily in his nephew's arms, always charmed by a baby close by. "Hello, my little sweetheart," he cooed to the baby girl, gently stroking an arthritic finger down her cheek before looking to Jon. "Your wife" Oh, I would assume she had some disappointment or other when she was out this morning," he shrugged lightly. "She seems to have decided to purge herself of her bad temper before coming inside."
Jon went over to the window, followed by Cosmo, who started barking loudly as soon as he saw Vicki, which caused Emily to start fussing again. "Blast it!" Jon muttered, beneath his breath before turning wearily to the poor confused dog. "Cosmo, stop! It's just Vicki." Jon sighed and tried to get Emily to take the bottle as the dog tilted his head up at his master and wagged his tail. "Your little sweetheart had us up half the night with colic," Jon explained with a frown.
This little display made Humphrey laugh uproariously for a long moment, thumping his chest as his laughter turned to coughing for a moment. But he did, at least, have a little pity on his frazzled nephew. "Cosmo, sit," the Old Man ordered, and despite his excitement and confusion, the collie did as he was told, padding to the blanket folded under Humph's desk for his own personal use to sit down quietly. At Jon's mention of Emily's late night, Humphrey grinned. "Then you should know better by now than to forget that you have many willing volunteers to take her off your hands when you need to rest," he told Jon firmly. "Give her here. I'll look after her - you take your wife and both of you sod off for a few hours."
Jon arched a brow at the ease with which Humphrey took charge of the situation. It was not the norm for Jon to be feeling this flustered or frustrated, but the lack of sleep was clearly getting to him, and he knew he had to be sharp for opening night. He knew there were others more than willing to help, but he always hated asking for it. Today though, he jumped at the chance to get a few solid hours of sleep, and he knew Vicki would be better for it, too. "Are you sure" You don't mind?" he asked his uncle, uncertainly. "It's opening night, and if I don't get some rest, I'm not going to make it." He said nothing about the jackhammer that was pounding in his head.
"Of course I'm sure," Humphrey snorted with laughter, curling his arm about to take Emily into his grasp, his other hand transferring the bottle to her mouth as she began to complain once again. "You're no use to anyone like this, least of all your daughter, and your Victoria doesn't seem much better. Go and work off some of that tension and get some sleep, for gods' sakes, before she does some real damage."
Jon let Humphrey take baby Emily from his arms, relieved and grateful for his great uncle's help. He turned his gaze back to the woman beating on the more helpless tree outside the window and his frown deepened. "I suppose I should go see what?s upset her," he mused aloud, before turning back to Humphrey. "Thanks, Uncle. You're a lifesaver." And that was not an understatement.
"You're a braver man than I," was Humphrey's parting shot, enjoying teasing his nephew even when Jon was in such a wary mood. The Old Man's attention turned to the baby in his arms, and Jon might as well never have been there for all the notice he was given. Humphrey adored children, and somehow, despite his gruffness, they tended to adore him right back again.
Seeing Emily safely into Humphrey's very capable care, Jon leaned over to kiss his daughter on the brow with a whispered, "Be good for your uncle." She barely batted an eye, so engrossed was she in her meal, and Jon sighed as he glanced at his wife again, wondering what had set her off and if it was safe to go outside. Whatever it was, he assumed it wasn't him, and he turned on a heel and started bravely toward the door.
By the time Jon made the decision to go outside, Vicki was already running out of steam. She knew she was being irrational, that she was massively overreacting to her unsuccessful meeting with Mataya earlier, but lack of sleep and an increasing feeling of being confined had combined to send her temper into overdrive. Jon had only seen her angry once, and that was nothing compared with the fury she'd been in when she'd come home. Now, though, the anger was ebbing, and finally she threw her branch aside and slumped down onto the grass, dejected and feeling about as ridiculous and useless as one person could without exploding.
Humphrey Granger, for all his advancing years, never seemed short of entertainment these days. Indeed, since Jon and Vicki had moved into the manor with him, scarcely a day had gone by without some amusement or drama to keep the Old Man occupied. Today, however, seemed a little different. Vicki had gone out on her own - not unusual, but for the fact that she was dressed so smartly - and had returned a few minutes before now. She had not, however, come back into the house. No, she'd left her shoes and bag just inside the front door, turned on her heel, wrenched a random branch from the hydrangea Humphrey hated anyway, and was even now conducting a spirited whipping on the trunk of the great redwood. The Old Man had a perfect view from his study window. He certainly wasn't going to go out there during what looked like the temper tantrum to end all others. He smirked faintly. He could hear her cursing and yelling at no one from here.
Jon had just awoken from a nap, having spent half the night up pacing the floors with a collicky Emily, the morning spent going over his lines for the upcoming play at the theater. The best advice ever given them after having Emily had been, "When she sleeps, you sleep," and Jon had taken that advice and crashed hard on the couch while Emily napped between feedings. She was, for the most part, a good baby, but even good babies had their odd bad days and nights, which trickled down to their parents. When he awoke, he found Vicki had slipped out somewhere without leaving word, but he figured she wouldn't be gone long. As fate would have it, Emily awoke, as well, fussing and demanding to be fed, just as Jon was about to go downstairs and fix himself some lunch.
Perfect timing, he thought, wondering where Vicki had disappeared to. He rubbed his eyes and stretched, looking more than a little rumpled from his nap, before scooping up their little bundle of joy and sticking a pacifier in her mouth so he could go warm up a bottle. It was then that his attention was drawn to the window upon hearing some small racket going on outside the manor, not expecting to find his wife there cussing up a storm and whacking - was that a branch' - against the redwood tree. Emily chose that moment to spit out her pacifier and wail loudly, demanding sustenance either from her mother's breast or the equivalent, and Jon sighed wearily. He loved being a husband and father, but some days were just exhausting, and it was opening night at the theater, to boot.
Downstairs, Humphrey chuckled to himself as a particularly hard blow from Vicki's branch snapped the whole thing and threw her wildly off-balance, tipping the usually perfectly well behaved woman arse over tip onto the grass. She sat there in her heap for a long moment, visibly steaming at some unknown injury to her pride and temper, and finally pulled herself back up again, moving to rip a new piece from the shrub to resume her attack on the unassuming redwood.
Jon slipped into a pair of shoes and padded down the stairs with the wailing Emily cradled in his arms. He tried to hush her, but she just went on wailing, and his nerves were already frayed from the night before. It was no wonder Vicki was beating on a tree. Jon wondered if he should join her. Almost tripping over Cosmo, who was suddenly underfoot and barking loudly in answer to Emily's wail, Jon cussed softly to himself, feeling a headache coming on. He couldn't call in sick to the theater on opening night, but if he didn't get at least a little sleep, he was going to be useless. It didn't take long to warm up a bottle and pacify the screaming baby, but by that time, Jon's head was throbbing, and he still had Vicki to deal with.
Catching sight of Humphrey in the study as he passed by, he pushed his way into the room looking a little rough around the edges. "What the hell is she doing out there?" he asked sharply, very unlike his usual calm deameanor.
The Old Man barely glanced over his shoulder as he heard Jon's footsteps, dragging his gaze more fully away from the scene outside as he registered Emily in his nephew's arms, always charmed by a baby close by. "Hello, my little sweetheart," he cooed to the baby girl, gently stroking an arthritic finger down her cheek before looking to Jon. "Your wife" Oh, I would assume she had some disappointment or other when she was out this morning," he shrugged lightly. "She seems to have decided to purge herself of her bad temper before coming inside."
Jon went over to the window, followed by Cosmo, who started barking loudly as soon as he saw Vicki, which caused Emily to start fussing again. "Blast it!" Jon muttered, beneath his breath before turning wearily to the poor confused dog. "Cosmo, stop! It's just Vicki." Jon sighed and tried to get Emily to take the bottle as the dog tilted his head up at his master and wagged his tail. "Your little sweetheart had us up half the night with colic," Jon explained with a frown.
This little display made Humphrey laugh uproariously for a long moment, thumping his chest as his laughter turned to coughing for a moment. But he did, at least, have a little pity on his frazzled nephew. "Cosmo, sit," the Old Man ordered, and despite his excitement and confusion, the collie did as he was told, padding to the blanket folded under Humph's desk for his own personal use to sit down quietly. At Jon's mention of Emily's late night, Humphrey grinned. "Then you should know better by now than to forget that you have many willing volunteers to take her off your hands when you need to rest," he told Jon firmly. "Give her here. I'll look after her - you take your wife and both of you sod off for a few hours."
Jon arched a brow at the ease with which Humphrey took charge of the situation. It was not the norm for Jon to be feeling this flustered or frustrated, but the lack of sleep was clearly getting to him, and he knew he had to be sharp for opening night. He knew there were others more than willing to help, but he always hated asking for it. Today though, he jumped at the chance to get a few solid hours of sleep, and he knew Vicki would be better for it, too. "Are you sure" You don't mind?" he asked his uncle, uncertainly. "It's opening night, and if I don't get some rest, I'm not going to make it." He said nothing about the jackhammer that was pounding in his head.
"Of course I'm sure," Humphrey snorted with laughter, curling his arm about to take Emily into his grasp, his other hand transferring the bottle to her mouth as she began to complain once again. "You're no use to anyone like this, least of all your daughter, and your Victoria doesn't seem much better. Go and work off some of that tension and get some sleep, for gods' sakes, before she does some real damage."
Jon let Humphrey take baby Emily from his arms, relieved and grateful for his great uncle's help. He turned his gaze back to the woman beating on the more helpless tree outside the window and his frown deepened. "I suppose I should go see what?s upset her," he mused aloud, before turning back to Humphrey. "Thanks, Uncle. You're a lifesaver." And that was not an understatement.
"You're a braver man than I," was Humphrey's parting shot, enjoying teasing his nephew even when Jon was in such a wary mood. The Old Man's attention turned to the baby in his arms, and Jon might as well never have been there for all the notice he was given. Humphrey adored children, and somehow, despite his gruffness, they tended to adore him right back again.
Seeing Emily safely into Humphrey's very capable care, Jon leaned over to kiss his daughter on the brow with a whispered, "Be good for your uncle." She barely batted an eye, so engrossed was she in her meal, and Jon sighed as he glanced at his wife again, wondering what had set her off and if it was safe to go outside. Whatever it was, he assumed it wasn't him, and he turned on a heel and started bravely toward the door.
By the time Jon made the decision to go outside, Vicki was already running out of steam. She knew she was being irrational, that she was massively overreacting to her unsuccessful meeting with Mataya earlier, but lack of sleep and an increasing feeling of being confined had combined to send her temper into overdrive. Jon had only seen her angry once, and that was nothing compared with the fury she'd been in when she'd come home. Now, though, the anger was ebbing, and finally she threw her branch aside and slumped down onto the grass, dejected and feeling about as ridiculous and useless as one person could without exploding.