2. Sleepy

She was swaying as she brushed her teeth, exhaustion written on every line of her face. Her boots had been kicked off and were sitting in the middle of the floor at the foot of their empty bed, her face was halfheartedly cleared of makeup and the grime of the day.

Good enough.

She slipped into her pajamas and padded softly across the silent loft, dragging herself up the stairs.

She pushed the door open gently, and sure enough, there he was, his massive frame relaxed in slumber, curled up in the deep armchair, his arms securely surrounding the precious 18 month old bundle cuddled into his daddy's broad chest.

She watched them from the door frame for several moments, soaking in this scene of love and warmth and safety and innocence, banishing the darkness of death and murderers and lack of leads.

Watching wasn't enough, though. She felt herself pulled towards them by magnetic force, dropping to her knees beside the chair and laying her head gently against his bicep, her eyes sweeping over her baby's face, his little mouth parted, eyelashes sweeping his chubby little cheeks.

The arm beneath her head moved, drew away so she could settle more fully on his chest, his arm now embracing her shoulders and his hand sweeping through her hair, covering the crown of her head with his massive palm.

"Long day," he slurred quietly. She tipped her head so she could look up into his sleepy blue eyes.

"Long day," she murmured back.

"Should get you to bed," he said, fingers tracing the curve of her cheek. Her eyes dropped back to their baby boy, unwilling to miss more of him. She could feel her husband's eyes on her as she gently rubbed her little boy's back.

Slowly, unwillingly, she pulled away, swaying again as she made it up to her feet.

"You ok to take him?" he asked. She looked at him, knowing he wanted to tuck her in bed himself and take care of everything for her, but he also knew what she wanted most was her baby. She swept the hair back from his forehead and kissed it, before gently lifting her slumbering baby, holding the boy's tiny body to her, his little arms and legs sticking out haphazardly. He barely stirred.

Movement behind her alerted her that her husband was now vertical, too, so she wasn't at all surprised when he appeared in front of her and his arms snaked around them both. Sighing, she leaned into his chest, expelling a long breath as she soaked in the feeling of her husband and her son surrounding her, only the hypnotic rhythm of his hand sliding up and down her spine keeping her fully awake.

She didn't know how long they stood there, huddled together in the middle of the nursery, but she knew she needed it, just like she needed him to eventually kiss her temple and murmur "Time to put him down, Kate," into her ear.

Tucking her son in carefully and kissing his face gently one more time, she took her husband's hand and let him lead her down through the loft and safely to bed.

Thoughts?