A/N: Wow, likeit has her finger on the button. Every time she sends me a PM begging for a fic, I write something. This is a sequel to my ficlet This, and that other ficlet, That.

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He hadn't been able to find work.

It wasn't like there was nothing for him to do… frankly, being a house husband had always held a great deal of allure for him, notwithstanding the fact that he'd never believed he'd have the chance to try it.

The babies were a handful, and Alex had no qualms about leaving them with him when she was offered a consulting position with the State Police.

She traveled, of course. But usually not for this long.

He thought of the last time he'd touched her. Six weeks ago. She'd come home late, grumpy, tired and hungry. The kids were in bed. She stomped to the shower while he popped her dinner in the microwave.

She'd emerged warm, flushed, and contrite, to find him relaxing on the couch. "Hi, honey," she'd whispered, as she'd covered his mouth with hers and buried her fingers in his hair. "Thank you for dinner, I'm starving," she'd continued over her shoulder as she'd withdrawn (too soon for his liking) to the kitchen.

He joined her at the kitchen table, watching her nimble fingers make quick work of the chili and salad he'd prepared, thinking about the feeling of those same fingers in his hair, on his body. He felt nervous… of her long trip, of being solely responsible for the kidlets, of not being able to say a proper goodbye. He counseled himself not to push her, bully her into being intimate with him.

They talked about the twins, who were starting to talk a lot, and getting big! Anything to do with their little family was a magical, sacred place for Bobby – even uncomfortable conversations were beautiful.

o.o.o.o.o

After dinner, he pulled her feet into his lap and began rubbing them. He smiled as her face relaxed, even though there was a good chance she'd fall asleep right there and he'd have to carry her to bed, a kiss on the cheek their only goodbye. His body, aching for completion with her prior to their separation, responded strongly to the sighs and mewls that issued from Alex as he dug his thumbs into her insteps and playfully tweaked her toes. Even as she closed her eyes and sank bonelessly into the cushions, he found himself taut and hard with arousal.

When his impromptu massage wound down, however, his wife bounded up and clambered into his lap, attaching her lips artlessly to his while she touched his bare neck and the vee at the top of his chest. "Mmm, Bobby that was so wonderful," she whispered in his ear. "I feel sooooo relaxed." She began trailing kisses along his jawline and up to his temple. "Are you? Relaxed?" She chuckled as she rimmed his ear with her tongue.

She'd giggled and gasped when he'd flexed himself into her, saying, "I don't know, Alex, you tell me."

He'd been ridiculously happy and excited when she'd reached between them to unfasten his trousers. Their coupling had been quick, awkward, a little sleazy, and oh so wonderful.

Afterwards, she'd cleaned him up with a wet facecloth, and re-fastened his clothes tenderly. "Don't forget me," she'd said wryly and shyly, before disappearing back into the bathroom.

o.o.o.o.o

Sitting in the same spot on the couch six weeks later, he thought about his life. In some ways he felt like he was going nowhere. Their son and daughter played on the floor nearby, running back to him every few minutes to rest their little hands on his knees while they let him know the most important thing in the world, or climbing his legs like trees to whisper chocolate secrets in his ears while they pulled his hair.

That was his life. Right here, he didn't have to move a muscle, and everything he loved came right to him. Eager to touch him, to be reminded that he was here and that he cared.

Later that night, the phone rang. It was Alex.

They talked about the usual – the kids, work, their days. But she was tense, distracted, and her mood made Bobby nervous. He got a horrible, sinking feeling when she said, "Bobby… I need to say something to you, and I just couldn't say it to your face."

Bobby mumbled something, and then there was silence on the line. Bobby looked around their cosy apartment, at the toys on the floor, his books, her magazines, the fridge that was always full of food, the high chairs, their credits and awards on the walls. Their home.

"I just wanted to say… I love you. And I love being married to you. I know staying home with the kids isn't what you imagined doing when you said 'yes' to my, um, proposal…" they both laughed, "But – I'm really happy, and I hope you're happy too. And if you're not," she paused, "Then we can do something else." He could hear her breathless on the other end of the line, as if the speech had been scary for her.

He thought about his spot on the couch… the centre of the universe for three special people. His answer was simple and easy. "I'm happy. And I love you too, so much. I, love being married to you. As for work, it's not a big deal, Alex. Let's talk about it more when you get back."

Later that week, Alex returned home. They held each other for a long time in the doorway, and after dinner, Alex and the twins dogpiled on Bobby on the couch. "Do you think we can all fit in Daddy's lap?" Alex asked.

Their son surveyed the topography thoughtfully. "Yup, I think so," he said.

"Uh huh," his sister agreed, on gut instinct it seemed, since she didn't bother looking.

"Well, Goren, you up for it?" She asked her husband.

"Bring it, Eames," he said with a wink.

"Goren, Daddy, Goren," the twins said in unison, covering his mouth with their little hands. They didn't like it when he called their Mommy by her old name.

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A/N 2: I know that I could expand this into a triple angst burger with a side of deep-fried smex, but this was all I felt like writing, so it will have to be enough.

WORDS: 1107 UPLOADED Sunday, September 26, 2010