Disclaimer: I don't own anything here (except for Al) and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.
It was Friday, so on his way home from work, Tim picked up a couple of six packs and a few pizzas. If there was any routine he could wholeheartedly support, it was Pizza and Beer Fridays. When he got home, he could hear the television blaring from two rooms away along with a high-pitched screeching. He made a quick detour into the kitchen to put down the pizza and beer, grabbed one of the bottles and then headed into the TV room.
Billy, Amber, and TJ were all sitting slack-jawed on the couch, watching a cartoon that appeared to feature a lot of explosions in outer space. Jack was jumping up and down on a chair, providing the screeching sound Tim had heard.
"Billy!" Tim nearly had to shout to be heard and he had to repeat his brother's name several times before he got a response.
"What?"
"Where's Al?"
Billy shrugged. "I dunno. Your room, I guess. Haven't seen her all afternoon."
Tim went back to their room, where he found Al in bed, reading a book. Nicky was sleeping and Cody was smiling and laughing in his swing.
When she saw him, Al jumped out of bed, got Cody out of the swing, and picked up the baby monitor. She grabbed Tim's hand and dragged him out of the room. Tim was puzzled, but he followed her into the television room, where she deposited Cody and the baby monitor in Billy's lap.
"We're going out for a little while. We should be back before Nicky wakes up, but could you listen for him and call me if he wakes up?"
Billy nodded without taking his eyes off the television.
"Billy, did you hear me?" asked Al, her voice sharp with frustration.
"Yeah, yeah, call you if he wakes up. Got it."
When they were walking out of the room, Billy finally looked away from the television. "Hey, what about dinner?"
"It's in the kitchen," said Tim. On hearing this, Amber and TJ jumped up and raced out the door.
Al dragged Tim outside and took his truck keys from him.
"I can drive. I only just opened this one," said Tim, lifting his beer slightly.
"It's okay. We're not going far."
Tim shrugged and got into the truck. He knew Al pretty well, but she could still surprise him occasionally. The sun had set and dusk was quickly giving way to night. Tim took a drink of his beer and watched the shadowy trees slide past the window as Al drove toward where Jason and Lyla were building their house.
When they passed the building site, Tim could see the foundation and stacks of bricks. It looked like the builder was making decent progress and maybe they actually would have neighbors by Christmas. Al took the turn for the lake and drove down there, then parked next to the boat dock. The water was inky black and after the chaos of the house, the silence in the truck was welcome.
Al turned to look at Tim, who slid over into the middle of the seat. He brushed a few curls off her face, tucking them gently behind her ear. Then he leaned in and kissed her, feeling nearly intoxicated by the sheer novelty of being alone with her. He slipped his hand behind her head, pulling her in closer, kissing her more deeply until he felt her pull away.
He pulled back and looked at her, a little confused and unsettled. She was looking down, so he tipped her chin up until her eyes met his.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his low voice raspy.
"It's just, this isn't why I brought you here."
Tim tried to keep the disappointment off his face. "It's not?"
"No, it's not."
He traced the neckline of her t-shirt and gave her his best charming smile. "I miss you, you know?"
She sighed. "I know. But it's going to be at least a few more weeks."
He traced her jawline and then outlined her lower lip. "That's fine. I know. But I didn't think just kissin' required a doctor's note."
"No, it doesn't, but-"
Tim cut her off with a fast, forceful kiss, then he whispered in her ear. "But nothing. C'mon, mess around with me."
Al put her hands on his chest and pushed, hard. Tim got the message, sliding back across the seat with his hands up.
"Sorry, I just thought....I mean why else would you drag us out of the house?" Frustrated and confused, he took a long pull from his beer while he waited for her answer.
"Timmy, we need to talk," she said, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around them. Tim stifled a groan. At no time in the history of the world had those words ever meant anything good. And he knew that when his wife went into what he called armadillo mode, it was doubly certain that nothing good was going to happen.
Tim arranged his face into his most neutral expression and took a drink of beer. "OK, so let's talk."
Al took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Things have to change, Timmy."
Tim kept quiet, hoping she would provide more details. What things? Change how?
"So many things....I don't even know where to start. First of all, it's been two weeks since he got out of the hospital and Billy really needs to go back to work."
Tim shrugged. "I dunno, isn't he still recovering?"
"He can't left heavy things, but he never did much of the physical work anyway. He needs to get back into a routine."
"Look, if this is so important to you, then why don't you talk to him?" Tim sighed.
"Because he won't listen to me."
"I don't know why you think he's going to listen to me."
"Because you're his brother and you can make it clear to him that if he wants to stay with us, then things are going to have to change."
"Hold up – you want me to kick him out?"
"No, I didn't say that." Al's voice prickled with irritation.
"You want me to threaten to kick him out?"
"No, I didn't say that either. Not exactly."
"Then I'm not really sure what you said. Because it sounded to me like you're wanting me to get all hard-ass with the guy when he's hurt and heartbroken and, to be honest with you, I'm not sure I can do it." Tim sighed and raked his hand through his hair.
"I'm just saying, tell him to go back to work. Make it about how you guys need him there. I don't care as long as he gets back to it."
"OK, fine. I'll do it." Tim's tone implied that it wasn't actually fine, but he knew he would do whatever she asked. Coach Taylor was fond of saying "my wife is always right," which Tim never really understood until he had a wife of his own.
"And he needs to start looking after his kids better. You have no idea what it's like when you're at work. He lets Jack run wild and pretty soon, I'm watching two babies and a crazed three-year old. It's too much, Timmy."
"Well, I don't know how you think that's going to change if Billy goes back to work."
"He needs to put them in day care."
"But can't you-"
Al cut him off, her voice sharp. "No, Tim, I can't. I can't do everything. In case you hadn't noticed, taking care of Nicky is a full-time job and lately, I've been doing that job and just about every other job in the house."
"Wait a minute, what are you talking about? I still clean up after dinner."
"Tim, you load the dishwasher and wash a few pots. That's it. You don't help with cleaning, you don't help with putting the older kids to bed, you don't do any of the grocery shopping."
"That's not fair. I'm working, you know. I'm gone all day and when I get home, I should get to relax."
"Yeah? And when do I get to relax?"
"What do you do when I'm at work all day?"
Tim watched anger flash across Al's face, a thunderstorm moving across a prairie. He knew he'd gone too far.
"You want to trade, Tim? You want to stay home and do everything I do all day and tell me if it's relaxing?"
He looked away and drained the rest of his beer. When Al got this way, which thankfully was rare, dealing with her was like trying to defuse a bomb while blindfolded and wearing welding gloves.
"No," he finally said softly as he shook his head.
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Tim stole a look at her, trying to figure out if her anger was simmering or evaporating.
"Look, tell me what you need me to do," he said, taking a gamble and sliding back across the seat so he could put his hand on top of hers.
"Put Billy's kids to bed, or get him to do it – at a decent hour too. Waiting until they collapse and then carrying them to bed doesn't count. And if you could handle feeding Nicky when he wakes up around midnight, I think that would help a lot."
"I can handle that."
"And maybe we can make a list of the cleaning that needs to be done and then divide that up."
Tim groaned. "I hate lists and schedules. You know that."
"Yeah, I know that. But I don't want to have to nag and remind you all the time. Please don't make me be that kind of wife."
Feeling like his gamble had paid off, Tim decided to take another. He pulled Al into a hug and kissed her cheek. "I won't, I promise."
He felt her relax against him and smiled when she slipped out of armadillo mode, putting her arms around his neck and unfolding her legs so they were stretched across his lap.
"I mean it, Timmy. Things have to change."
"They will. I promise. Now, are we still friends?"
She smiled and rested her head against his shoulder. "Of course we are."
"Because, you know, we don't really fight that much. So you might not know this, but the best part of fighting is the kissing and making out afterwards."
"Don't you mean kissing and making up?" she asked, leaning back to look at him.
"Whatever," he said with a smile before he kissed her.