Jack walked through Doug and his apartment after a long day of teacher meetings. He had asked Joey and Pacey to babysit just for a day since Doug was out of town and his meetings ran from twelve to nine at night.
When he walked in, he saw the three-year-old wrapped in Pacey's arms, Pacey's head in Joey's lap asleep, and Joey rubbing his hair while watching television.
"Hey," Jack whispered as he sat his bag down on the kitchen counter. "Hi," Joey whispered with a smile.
"How rough was she today?" Jack asked.
"Not that rough," Joey whispered as she looked down at the three-year-old girl sleeping in her husband's arms. "However, Pace and I think she may be sick."
"Uh no," Jack whispered. "Is that why your husband is asleep?"
Joey let out a small laugh. "Pacey already had his head in my lap like this when she came running in sobbing and throwing up."
Jack softly pick up his daughter and kissed the top of her little head. "Hopefully she gets better fast. Luckily today is Friday."
He walked away as Joey rubbed Pacey's back. "Mhmm." He said as he turned over to face his head into her stomach.
"Did you tell him that having a sick kid running to the room while throwing up was not an ideal situation?" He whispered.
"Poor baby." She whispered as she rubbed his back.
Pacey then looked up at her. "Poor baby, why not poor hubby?"
"That what why I said poor baby because you are being such a baby about this."
Pacey looked up at her with a small glare as she smiled brightly at him.
