Cal kicked his shoes off by the bottom of the stairs. He stripped off his suit jacket and hung it on the end of the banister and untucked his business shirt, loosening the buttons around his wrists. From there he could hear the displeased squeals and calls of Owen, who was either trying to do something he shouldn't or was in the process of getting told off about it and restrained from doing more damage. He had a way of shuffling around the room and finding little places he could put his little fingers in to get into a little bit of trouble. Cal could hear Gillian underneath that and figured the kid had got himself into trouble. At eighteen months old now, it was easy to tell Owen was going to be more of a handful than Lewis had been.

Cal headed into the actual kitchen and found Owen practically face down on the table top and Gillian pulling him back to his seat by his hips. He had one hand gripping the opposite edge of the furniture to try and keep his position but his much stronger mother was winning. She pried him loose and he gave a cry. "I said 'no' Owen," she told him sharply and set him on the floor. He refused to stand and collapsed slowly into a heap at his mother's feet. He gave a displeased screech. In the chair beside them, Lewis continued with his colouring.

Cal approached and Gillian turned her head to see where Owen was going and caught sight of her husband instead. "Hi," she greeted.

"Hi," Cal echoed, planting a kiss on her cheek. It barely brushed her skin before she was pushing past him to get to Owen, who was attempting to climb up the extra-tall stools at the breakfast bar. Cal took his usual seat at the head of the table.

Lewis looked up. "Hi Dad," he gave a smile.

"Hi darlin'," Cal greeted.

"Dad, guess what!" Lewis practically interrupted as if he had suddenly remembered something incredibly exciting. He was kneeling on his chair and came up on his knees so he was suddenly much taller. His blue eyes went wide with excitement and his 'wh?' question was hurried. Without waiting for an answer he pulled down his bottom lip. "Aye toosh feel ou," he wiggled his tongue into the gap in his gum.

"Wow," Cal responded appropriately, finger-spelling it loosely and quickly, his eyebrows raised and eyes wide. "When did it come out?" He also raised his hands in a 'wh?' gesture, then 'out'.

"Today," Lewis responded. "At lunch time. I took a biiiiiig bite of my apple and it was wobbly." He used 'today', 'eat', 'noon', 'bite', 'large' and 'apple'. Cal nodded. "And then, oh, and it was in my fingers." He held out his palm as if it were still nestled carefully in there.

"And where is it now?"

"Over there," Lewis pointed to the breakfast bar. "Mum said the tooth fairy will come." He brought a hand to his mouth to indicate who he was talking about.

Cal nodded again. "She should do. What do you think you'll get for your tooth?" 'Tooth' was tapping an 'X' finger against his teeth.

"Um?" Lewis looked a little pensive. "Max told me you get five whole dollars!" He finger-spelled his cousin's name and raised his hand in a 'five' shape.

"I dunno," Cal exaggerated dubiousness. "Is your tooth nice?" He ran his right hand down the length of his upturned left. Lewis looked a little worried. Then he nodded. Behind him, Gillian pulled Owen off the bar stool, crouching to remind him that he was not allowed to climb them because he could fall. He hit her and she immediately took him to the wall to sit a one minute time out. They had zero tolerance for violence and Owen was chronic for it. He hit when he was annoyed, frustrated, upset, over excited...

"Well so long as it's a nice tooth the tooth fairy will be happy," Cal told Lewis, moving flat hands towards and away from his chest in big circles, trying so hard to ignore the crying out of his youngest child. Poor Lewis was living in Owen's shadow. Cal getting up to abandon him right now would only hurt him. Besides, Gillian had the situation under control. And if Cal got up to intervene that would only piss her off as well. It was hard to sit there though, like nothing was happening. Cal was a man of action after all. "Did it hurt?" He smacked his fist into his left index finger gently.

Lewis shook his head. "Not very much," he made a 'little' sign.

"Very brave," Cal gave him a grin, moving his hands to his shoulder and then away slightly and closing them into fists. Then he reached out to squeeze his son's shoulder, which wasn't a sign at all, he just wanted to connect with him. He was growing up so fast! "What are you workin' on here?" Cal asked, keeping the conversation going. He could give his six year old ten minutes of quality time before he was distracted by dinner and Owen and his wife.

"I'm making a Halloween monster for my wall." He signed 'Halloween' by closhing his hands over his face and opening them again, like the common 'peek-a-boo' concept. Normally the movement was repeated but he did it once then curled his hands into claws up by his face with a scary expression. He turned the page to show his father the green figure with excessive sharp teeth and claws.

"Whoa," Cal was appropriately impressed. "Very scary." He used 'afraid'.

Lewis nodded. "It eats people up." He signed 'eat' and 'people', using rotating 'P' hands.

Time out was apparently up because Owen shuffled his way over to his father and used his leg to pull himself up. Cal lifted him to his lap. "Did you give your Mum a hug to say sorry?"

"All hugs," Owen answered, which was meant to mean, lots of hugs. He lunged forward suddenly for Lewis's picture, scrunching it under his fingers.
"No!" Cal pulled him back quickly, squeezing his wrist to get him to let go. "That's Lewis's."

Owen gave a disgruntled squeal and shoved his feet against the table, bumping it but not moving it away. He lay himself flat, pushing his head against Cal's sternum. Cal let him go, and he slid to the floor. 'Not gettin' his way to day,' Cal mused.

Lewis smoothed out the wrinkles in the paper and Owen went to walk under the table, holding on to the leg for stability, but he was too tall and he struck his head, knocking himself down on his backside. "Geeze," Cal reached for him again. "Are you all right?" He pulled the boy back to his feet to check his head. There looked like a small graze and it would probably bruise, but Owen was not screaming his head off so it couldn't have been that bad. Gillian approached behind Lewis's chair and leaned over him to see how the progress of his monster was going. Cal set Owen down on the ground again and the boy disappeared under the table, scooting on his backside this time.

"It's great Lewis," Gillian pressed a kiss against his hair.

Cal caught her eye over their son's head and gave her a smile. "How was your day?"

"Fine," Gillian responded nonchalantly.

Cal held out his hand to her. She had to move closer to take it and for a second he thought she might ignore him. Her hand was cool against his and Cal bent his elbow to pull her closer. When she was next to him, he tugged her to sit on his lap as well. "Are you tired, grumpy, ovawhelmed or did I do somethin' that pissed you off and I haven't worked it out to apologise yet?" He murmured against her shoulder.

"Yes, yes, yes and no," Gillian answered. She placed a hand against his shoulder to stabilise herself as Cal rocked his legs from side to side. She almost fell into the gap between them but Cal held her weight securely. Didn't stop her from gripping his arm tightly though.

"Dad, do you think orange is better?" Lewis interrupted. He put his hand to his mouth and shifted between a 'C' hand and an 'S' hand.

Cal shifted his head around his wife's torso to see him. "Go for what you think Lew." He brought a finger to his forehead.

"Do you like this one?" Lewis held up a pencil to show him. He pointed to his father and added 'like'.

"It's great," Cal nodded, giving him a 'thumbs up'. He looked up at Gillian. "Can I do somethin' to help with the grumpy? Want me to start dinna?"

Gillian gave a slight groan. "It must be really late and I haven't even thought about it."

A chair at the other end of the table started to move. "Nope," Cal responded. "It's not late. I'm home early. I'll make somethin'."

Gillian leaned down so her chin was resting on his shoulder. Cal squeezed his arms against her and she slipped a hand inside his shirt, between the first and second button, scratching her nails against his chest. He was wearing an under-shirt, but it still felt nice; mostly because she no longer seemed to be dismissing him. "You came home early? When you could have stayed away for some peace and quiet?"

"Uh huh," Cal responded. "Although now that you put it that way..." Gillian half laughed. "Why don't you head up and read for a bit? I'll cook and keep tabs on Trouble."

"Are you sure? We're headed for a record amount of 'time-out's' today."

Cal raised an eyebrow. "Suddenly I'm not so sure."

"I'll cook," Gillian countered. "You take care of Trouble."

"All right," Cal agreed quickly. Cooking was honestly the easier option.

Gillian gave his shoulder a tap. "You're up. Trouble is attempting to make a break for it."

Cal looked around her again to see Owen trying to climb over the custom built baby barrier in front of the kitchen stairs.