Summary: Striker asks an embarrassing favor to his bosses.
To say the atmosphere was tense would be an understatement. Striker had gone to wait outside the room, feeling it improper to be present. It was his boss's wife they were talking about, after all. Speaking of his boss, Joe was on the opposite side of the doorway, arms crossed and gazed fixed forward. He hadn't said anything yet, but Striker had the feeling that he wasn't happy about his 'request' either.
I'm so fired. Striker thought.
"Sir?"
"Mm?"
"Well, I..." Striker took a deep breath. "Sorry for the inconvenience. I'll pack my stuff and-"
"Why? Ya did nothin' wrong, Striker. Ye just needed help with somethin' out of both our control." Joe chuckled. "That actually speaks good things about ya, it means that ye care about yer cub."
"Jake means the world to me. I wouldn't know what I'd do if I lost 'im."
"Speakin' of which," Joe finally looked at him. "Do ya mind me askin' what happened to his ma? There must be a reason why ye have to ask someone else to nurse yer kid." Striker felt a squirming in his heart, but he felt that he'd at least owe Joe an explanation. His wife was nursing another man's child, after all. Sides, he didn't have to be too specific regarding Jane's death.
"...My wife died when Jake was born," he said simply.
"Oh... I'm sorry."
"T-That's okay..." Striker looked away, trying to contain tears. Just thinking about it still hurt. "At least I have a little piece of her to remember her..." he smiled a bit.
Lynn spoke from the other side of the door. "Ye can come in now!"
"Hey, Striker, wanna take a look?"
Striker glanced to his boss, cheeks red. "W-What?"
"Well, it's not like ye can watch yer kid nursin' everyday."
"S-Sir, I couldn't possibly-! It's yer wife we're talkin' about, I'm not sure if I should...!"
"And your son. Come on, don't be so stubborn. I promise ya, ye still get to keep the job."
Striker would have protested further, but Joe was already dragging him inside the room. He instinctively lowered the trim of his hat to avoid looking at Lynn's exposed breast, cheeks a deep red.
"G-Good afternoon, ma'am...!"
"Oh, Striker, will you take off that hat? There's nothin' wrong in watching yer kid having a good meal!"
Reluctantly, Striker lifted his hat off his head. He felt a shiver down his spine as he saw Lynn on a rocking chair, Jake cradled in her arms. His heart skipped a beat. The little one was contently latched on and suckling from her breast.