Context: The result of a spark of inspiration upon rereading the previous headcanon.

So This Is Love (Oneshot)

He knew when the man walked in that something was wrong. He felt faint, a loud roaring in his ears. All because of a suit.

It was black. Black like the suit he'd worn that night, black like his Porsche. Black like his vision…

He had to calm down. It was fine. It would all be fine -

"Excuse me!"

He blinked. "What?"

The man in the suit sighed. "I said, I'm ready to order. You can handle that, can't you?"

He nodded. "Yes, sir. Er…what can I get you?"

"I'll have a tall half-skinny half-1 percent extra hot split quad shot latte with whip. And a raspberry scone."

"…What was it?"

The man grumbled something under his breath about "uneducated schmucks" before repeating his order very slowly. "Got it this time, pretty boy?"

Gritting his teeth, he nodded. "That'll be four seventy-two, please."

He turned to Jessica, who looked just as confused as he'd been. She prepared the latte as quickly as she could, calling out the order a few minutes later.

The man took a sip, face scrunched in disgust. "It's too cold."

Jessica frowned. "Sir, I assure you it was -"

"My lattes are always 92.5 degrees. This is significantly less." He handed the cup back. "I refuse to drink this slop."

His hands were balled into fists as the manager came out. "Sir, is everything alright?"

"Your brain-dead employees can't get my order right, and I refuse to drink this."

He didn't hear much after that. His vision was focused on that suit, that ugly suit that made his heart pound and sirens screech in his ears -

"JAMIE!"

The suit was stained with blood. No, not blood…coffee. The cup was in his hand.

"Jamie!"

He was going to get fired. He was sure of it…

"Jamie?"

He jerked. "Hmm?"

"Nothing."

"Mmm." He pushed more rice around his plate.

Cathy sighed, setting down her fork. "Jamie, talk to me, please? You've been so quiet since you got home, and you've hardly eaten anything."

The plate came into focus. He'd hardly even nibbled at his chicken.

"I'm fine. Just not that hungry."

"You sure?"

"Yes." He got up from the table, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll eat later, okay?"

He trudged up the stairs, feeling her eyes on him. He couldn't tell her what had happened. Not yet. She already had enough to worry about, especially concerning the baby.

A few days at home would benefit him, he figured. He could watch TV, read the paper in peace, maybe he could even convince Cathy to bake some cookies with him.

Jamie opened the door to the bathroom, turning the shower on as hot as it would go. He knew he'd regret it as soon as he stepped in, but at the moment he didn't care. The steam would help clear his mind.

He stripped off his clothing, balling each article up and tossing it across the room. Only his belt made a satisfying smack against the wall. It wasn't enough for him. He pried his ring off of his left hand, preparing to -

No.

His arm lowered, and he held the little golden band in his palm. He stood for a moment, just looking at it, before he slowly placed it back on his left ring finger where it belonged.

He pulled the curtain back, stepping in.

Burning. Harsh jets of scalding water hit him, and he pulled the lever to the right, letting out his breath when it cooled to a more bearable temperature. He leaned his head back, running his hands through his hair, pausing for a bit to adjust himself to the warmth of the water.

The door opened, startling him. He peered around the curtain, suddenly bashful and clinging to the fabric, making sure only his head was visible. He was met with the sight of his wife removing her bra.

"Cathy?"

She said nothing, continuing to undress until she was completely naked. His eyes were immediately drawn to her slightly swollen belly. He knew because of her build that she was showing early, and it never failed to amaze him that there was a living thing within her, a living thing he wouldn't fully get to know for another six months.

She gave him a steady look, pulling the curtain aside and stepping in. After she'd yanked it back into place, she turned to face him.

"Cathy, what are you doing?"

She didn't answer, turning around and pulling his shampoo from the shower caddie hanging from the shower wall.

"If I tell you what happened at work, would you please towel off?"

"I don't have to know the specifics." She looked up at him again. "I know that you're hurt. That's reason enough."

"I'm not a kid, Cathy. I think I can shower all by myself."

"Also something I know, but we'll disregard it for the time being." She opened the bottle, replaced it, and rubbed her hands together, the shampoo covering her fingers with green suds.

"You're -"

"Don't you dare play the pregnancy card," she interrupted. "I'm showing early, not bedridden."

"But -"

She cut him off again, this time by spreading her hands over his hair. He closed his eyes, sighing quietly. They'd never done this before, but this was quickly turning into one of his favorite things to do with her.

"Could you please kneel, sweetie? It'll be easier for me to get your whole head."

He nodded, finding himself facing her stomach. "Don't be afraid…to…use your nails…"

Her hands were back to massaging his scalp; he felt his spine tingle at the feel of her nails snaking through his hair. He leaned into her hands, a smile slowly appearing on his face.

His eyes flew open when he felt the pressure disappear.

"Rinse your hair," she told him with a smirk, washing the last of the suds from her skin. "Wouldn't want you walking around with a gigantic grease slick on your head."

He made an effort to shake his head repeatedly as he stuck it under the spray, splashing her with droplets of shampoo.

"Jamie!"

"What? I'm rinsing my hair, aren't I?" He straightened, returning her smirk.

She giggled. "Turn around."

He raised an eyebrow, doing as he was told. "Um…aren't I supposed to tell you that? I thought we'd agreed that until the baby was born we wouldn't -"

"Jamie, come on." He could almost hear the eye-roll in her voice. "Just scrub and don't ask questions."

"Whatever you say." He washed himself with the bar of soap that was off to the side, feeling it run down to his toes as he stood under the constant flow of water.

Cathy's fingers gripped his shoulders, her thumbs moving in circles over his muscles. He felt them move down his back, then back up to his shoulders and neck, pressing firmly and then softly.

He didn't have the energy to stop her. All he could do was sigh again, louder this time, and allow his head to rest against the wall as he felt his muscles loosening under his wife's touch.

He felt the absence of her hands suddenly, and he was about to ask when her lips were between his shoulder blades. Her arms wrapped around his middle, her cheek against his back. "Feel better?" she whispered.

"Yes." He slowly turned around, a genuine smile on his face. "Thank you." He kissed her gently on the lips, then on the neck, and lingering on her shoulder, one of his hands moving to caress her stomach.

She shivered, reaching behind her to turn off the water. "I brought in our pajamas," she said, opening the curtain and grabbing a towel from the floor.

He pouted slightly. "Cathy, I was in the middle of kissing you. You can't just leave me like that."

She tossed him his towel. "You can cuddle me all you want when we get into bed, alright?"

"I guess that will do," he said, trying to suppress his grin.

He told her what had happened earlier at work before they went to bed - not because he felt like he had to, but because he wanted to. She didn't push when he was hurt; she gave him his space, but managed to comfort him all the same.

She didn't reprimand him for being home for the next few days, nor did she give him sympathy for why he'd done what he did. Instead she moved closer, kissing his forehead and rubbing his arm after he'd finished.

They lay quietly in each others' arms for a while before he noticed her begin to doze off. He gave her a soft kiss, whispering, "Good night" before her breathing evened out. He watched her until he felt his own eyes grow heavy.

The last thing he saw before he fell asleep were the rings on her left hand; his heart swelled, and he couldn't help but feel better.