Disclaimers: The characters in this story are copyrighted by Warner Brothers and Shoot The Moon Productions. I make no money from these characters; I simply like to share their world for a short time.
A/N Just a little look into Lee's thoughts as he comes home to his lovely wife. A special thanks to Bruce Boxleitner and Kate Jackson—as well as the rest of the cast—for portraying these characters so wonderfully.
He was exhausted.
His day had started with a pre-dawn meeting with one of his family. Hoping to get some useful information regarding one of his on-going cases, he had left his sleeping wife and his warm bed to trudge to the middle of Rock Creek Park on what had to be the coldest day of the year. Not only had his family member failed to show, it had started to snow as he had pulled into the parking lot. The hour wait before he had finally given up and headed into the office had not only been freezing cold but he looked like the abominable snowman till he got back to the 'Vette. Even though he had brushed himself off before getting behind the wheel, there was still enough of the white stuff on his clothing to melt and soak into his clothes leaving him damp and chilled for the remainder of the day.
A day which, unfortunately, had included a morning meeting with Billy and Dr. Smyth. Luckily the old man's tirade only lasted an hour. As usual, he had been on the receiving end of numerous blasts—not to mention the subject of several perverted nursery rhymes. He swore the man was losing his mind.
Once he and Billy had managed to excuse themselves, he had been faced with problem after problem.
First, Francine needed help establishing an elaborate cover for a case she was working on. Then Leatherneck had called and requested his assistance in field-testing a new listening device. After running down to his lab and signing out the prototype, he had hoped to have a few moments to himself . . . maybe grab a little lunch?
Beaman had other ideas. Unfortunately, he needed someone to help with his freshman class's observations lesson, and Lee just happened to be passing by the classroom.
After being subjected to a studious inspection by the new candidates, he had finally been released to get on with his own agenda.
As he passed Mrs. Marston's desk on his way to the Q Bureau, she handed him the phone and mouthed "TP." It turned out that TP actually had a promising lead on one of his cases, but the trip to TP's office for the documents took another hour out of his day. At least TP had treated him to a lunch of sorts—a banana split sundae complete with three cherries.
Once he finally got back to IFF and the Q Bureau, a stack of paperwork the size of Mt. Everest awaited. Since his wife was out of the office on maternity leave, it seemed as if he couldn't get his head above water. Just how did she do it, anyway? And she made it look so easy. Oh well . . . he better get to work. After all, he wasn't going to be able to head home for the night until the paperwork was complete.
It was almost midnight when he finally walked in the door of 4247 Maplewood. The house was unusually quiet, even for this time of night. Between six-week-old twins, two teenage boys, and an extremely active mother-in-law, there was seldom a quiet moment. The only light seemed to be coming from the master bedroom at the top of the stairs.
While days at the office two years ago had been just as long, tiring, and tedious, the thought of going home to an empty apartment had held no appeal. Now, however . . . no matter how long the day . . . no matter now tired he was . . . the moment he walked through the door of his house his exhaustion seemed to lessen. After all, he had finally won the heart and hand of the lovely chestnut-haired maiden who awaited him in the master bedroom at the top of the stairs.
He quickly climbed the stairs, opening the door to their bedroom as quietly as he could. Just as he expected, she was asleep; the novel she was currently reading resting gently on her stomach. He carefully stripped off his clothing then eased the book from his wife's grip, placing it on the bedside table. As he slid under the covers, she reached out to him in her sleep.
He hadn't wanted to disturb her. After all, the twins were only six weeks old; nighttime feedings were really taking their toll. But he simply couldn't resist pulling her into his warm, loving embrace. He gently kissed the top of her head, whispering his love as his head sank down into his pillow. Sleep quickly overtook him . . . a look of contentment and a smile on his face. It was so good to be home at last!