It was supposed to be just a one-time thing.

He hadn't even realized he was doing it, but after a particularly long and arduous mission, he felt the beginning throbs of a massive headache coming on. He released his hair from its tied back state and breathed a sigh of relief. It wouldn't stop the oncoming headache, he knew this for a fact, but it did alleviate some of the pressure on his head.

His predicament didn't go unnoticed by his team. Marcy offered him a mild pain reliever, which he turned down, he was trying to stay away from any unnecessary medication. Trevor offered to sit with him and meditate for a while when they got back to the warehouse, he declined this as well. Meditation was never his thing, besides, he doubted he'd be able to concentrate on anything other than the fact that his head was throbbing.

He had closed his eyes and was leaning against the wall of the van when he felt Carly shift next to him, he idly wondered what she was doing when he felt her fingers card through his hair and settle at the base of his skull. No words were spoken between the two as she began a gentle (a lot more gentle than he would have given her credit for) massage.

The entire ride back to their base passed in what seemed like the blink of an eye, he protested slightly when she withdrew her hand. Giving her what she jokingly called his 'sad Philip' look.

"Don't get used to that, it was just a thank you for saving my ass back there." Carly's tone was half admonishment, half amusement. He gave her a grateful smile in return, a little surprised to find that his once throbbing head was now just a dull ache.

The situation arose again a few weeks later.

He and Trevor had spent most of the afternoon trying to get a handle on the multiple timeline issue that was causing him to be so distracted. Trevor had stepped out, something about having to go save someone from Grace. He was currently standing on the roof of the warehouse, just watching the various timelines play out, when Carly poked her head out.

"You gonna stay out here all night?"

"It's a lot easier at night. Less people to keep track of." He answered absentmindedly.

"Come inside, I'll make you some tea." She dropped back down, and he reluctantly followed.

Once he was back inside, he watched as one Carly was standing by the stove talking about the different types of tea with Trevor. Another Carly was laying on the couch with an arm over her eyes, clearly exhausted. There was one prone on the ground doing some kind of exercise with Marcy. There was another-

He squinted his eyes shut against the images. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he keep things straight?

"Hey, hey" Carly's voice broke through his self-flagellation. "You're seeing multiple time lines again aren't you?"

He nodded, "It wouldn't be so bad if I knew when and where it's gonna happen, but there's no reason or pattern to it."

There was a snort, "Please, there's a pattern to everything, you just have to be smart enough to see it."

"Who let you in here, Grace?"

"Okay!" Carly led Philip over to the couch and sat him down. "I thought you and Trevor were working on this?"

"His way of working on it was just to meditate a lot, which as you can see, is not really working for me. Every time I think about it too much, my head starts hurting again."

"Come here," She patted her lap. Philip stared at her in confusion. Carly rolled her eyes and physically pulled him down so his head lay in her lap. Much like the last time, she began to gently massage the base of his skull. "How are you so good at this?" The question slipped out. Her hands paused, and he was about to take the question back, when she resumed her ministrations.

"When we first came, and I was with Jeffrey Junior" She started haltingly, "I think he somehow knew I wasn't his mother, because he'd cry constantly. The only thing that got him to stop was when I did this." She shrugged, "It seemed to help, and eventually it became our little ritual. You know, something that was just for me and him."

"I'm sorry you lost your son." Philip said quietly.

"Thank you." She replied just as softly. Philip closed his eyes and enjoyed the stillness of the moment. It seemed that Carly needed this moment as much as he did, although for varying reasons. He was drifting off to sleep when he was jolted awake by Grace.

"How the hell was I supposed to know you can't tell a kid that? It's not my fault they're all sensitive idiots!"

"Grace!"

"What are you doing?"

The question startles Phillip, causing his hands to jerk and undo two long hours of progress. He groans in dismay as his hair falls around his face once more. He turns to face Carly, taking in her amused, but puzzled, expression.

"I was trying to do a braid. My understanding is that it's a perfectly acceptable hairstyle for men in this century." He looks back in the mirror, "One that I can't seem to master."

Carly tilts her head, "Why not just cut it, if it's getting in the way?"

"Protocol 5 says-" he starts.

"Protocol 5 simply says to maintain your hosts' life." She butts in, coming to stand next to him as they both look in the mirror. "Who knows, maybe he would have cut it eventually." She lifts a hand to play with a lock of his hair. Ever since that night when she'd opened up about her son, she'd been a lot more hands on with him. He didn't mind, between their daily chaotic lives and the most recent update that left him reeling, he eagerly welcomed the chance to just sit and be pampered. It wasn't an unfamiliar sight anymore to see him nestled in between her legs and her playing with his hair.

"You want help? I can do a mean French braid." Carly teased.

He turned to face her, taking in her riotous curls that more often than not were flying free. "I don't think I've ever seen you with your hair in braids."

She lifted a shoulder, "When I'm at home, and I need to pass the time. I've been studying all the various hairstyles that I've come across and even tried a few. Tell you what I'll come in tomorrow with my hair in a braid and if you like it, I'll braid yours too."

"Deal." He held out his hand for her to shake.

Of course they both knew she'd be braiding his hair tomorrow, regardless of what hers looked like.