Lori was still in the living room, and Rick knew he was in trouble the moment he saw her sitting on the sofa. Her legs and arms were crossed so tightly he was sure he could hear her joints creak. She glared at him as he walked over and sat down opposite, never blinking. Rick had never known anyone who could stare you down as thoroughly as Lori.

He leaned back, legs spread wide, arms open. Show vulnerability, show you're no threat, sometimes they are less likely to attack you then. Rick generally remembered the lessons from his police training well.

"Look, Lori…"

He knew she'd held back just so she could interrupt him as soon as he spoke. It rankled, to play her game for now, but it would speed things up, it was getting late. She didn't disappoint.

"Have you got ANY idea how worried I was?!"

Truth be told, Rick did, but he knew his wife. Lori had to go through the script in her head in a certain order before he'd get a word in again. He stayed quiet.

"You could've AT LEAST answered the phone. And then you could have mentioned you were going to bring home a… a…"

Rick knew she was holding back from calling Norman a hobo, and he was gratified that she was being this considerate, despite everything. He tried for mea culpa next. Take the blame, and they could all go to bed.

"Lori, I'm sorry, I really am. Events just overtook me, I didn't mean to leave you in the dark…"

He wasn't sure how well he was succeeding. Lori still looked daggers at him.

"Really?! How convenient, events got in the way, and it just HAPPENED to allow you to teach your wife a lesson!"

She spat the last word at him. Rick was worried Carl would wake up if Lori got any shriller. And what would Hershel think, overhearing their argument? Nobody in their circle knew about their difficulties, they all still thought of the Sherriff's Deputy and his beautiful wife as the perfect couple. Rick had to head her off.

"Please, Lori. I really had no choice. Norman, he has nobody. I couldn't just leave him…"

"Why not take him to the hospital? That's what they're there for, Rick."

He was praying Lori wouldn't take this line of enquiry to its natural, and sensible, logical conclusion.

"I tried. He ran away. Shane picked him up and put him in the drunk tank. Should I've just left him there?"

Judging by Lori's look she thought he should have done exactly that. Rick tried a different tack.

"Look, it's just for a few days, until he's recovered a bit. He really is badly hurt, Lori, I'm not exaggerating. I know it's a risk, having him here and not taking him to the hospital. But if I took him back I'm sure he'd not stay put. And who knows who'll find him next time. The thugs that did this to him are still at large…"

He stopped there and looked at his wife long and hard. Rick could tell she was softening now. Lori had a good heart, she was the one who kept bringing in stray kittens and injured birds and nursing them back to health. She wouldn't kick someone out when they were in danger of coming to more harm. Finally her legs and arms uncrossed.

"But he's a stranger, Rick. In our house…"

"He's in no condition to make trouble, promise. And he's not a total stranger. He works at that coffee shop you like…" Hoping to god she'd calmed down enough to be receptive to his next suggestion Rick got up. "I'm beat. Can we go to bed?"

Lori still looked reluctant, but then nodded and got up too. She came over to him when Rick held out his hand to her, and when she was within reach he pulled her close and kissed her hair. She nuzzled into him and placed a hand on the front of his jeans. Rick sighed inwardly. He really was exhausted, but he knew how much Lori liked making-up sex. At least this meant she was done yelling for the night.