January 5th, 1997

Ian didn't mean to be late, but when he found himself in several long-running meetings, he sent a message to wardrobe letting Bonnie know she should take the car at the end of her workday and pick up the children and start the evening without him. There was no reason everyone's schedules should be off because he was booked.

It was late by the time he finished the last meeting, which had been an invigorating one, as it had included a request to assist with a project on short notice. It would mean even more work, but also more income.

The children were in bed by the time he got dropped off at the house, but Bonnie was still awake, looking over some designs in her workroom. "Guess I'm not the only one working late tonight," he commented with a quiet chuckle as he looked in.

"Only waiting on you." Bonnie set the designs aside and came to the door. "Are you going to tell me what ate your time up this evening?"

"Of course." Together they walked into the living room. "Tanner wanted me at the last minute. Did you hear about Fred Gibbons' accident?"

Bonnie nodded. "I did. It's horrible, but I heard he was going to be all right."

"He will be, but he won't be able to work for a couple of months. So, Tanner asked if I'd substitute in on directing Days of Glory until Gibbons is back."

The frown he had been anticipating appeared on his wife's face. "And you said yes, without consulting me?"

"It's only the two months," Ian promised, keeping his tone calm but firm. "It's for Fred, and we could use the money."

"I thought you were going to find ways to cut stress, not add to them."

Which was, of course, her primary objection, as much as she'd been getting on to him lately about working too many long hours, and the fact he might as well have strapped on an IV of coffee, as much as he was drinking lately to get everything done. Not that he didn't acknowledge it was a lot, but he didn't have much alternative. Not like he could sleep more than a few hours as much as his mind was buzzing with everything to be done lately at work, and at home. "I promise, I can work it in. They don't shoot at the same time as my other projects. That's why he asked me."

Bonnie looked flush, with anger he was sure, but she didn't explode. Instead, she went very quiet for a minute. "Ian… are you avoiding me?"

Avoiding her? "Of course not. Why would you think that?" That was the last thing he wanted. He came home with her and the children every night.

"It just seems that everything you agree to lately keeps you out of the house at all hours. I thought you wanted to spend more time at home with the kids instead of working."

"I do. But they didn't have anyone else… I asked. I was the third person Tanner came to, Bonnie. He knows I'm busy."

"Go back and tell him no."

Ian wished he could have said he hadn't been expecting this response. Of course, she didn't want him taking it, but it was a bit late now. "I can't do that."

"Oh, yes you can. And you're going to. If you're not going to prioritize this family, and your own health, then someone has to. I'll go give him a piece of my mind if needed." Bonnie met his gaze with a steely one of her own.

Ian shook his head, trying not to sound too frustrated. He wasn't going to yell. If he started now, they'd both be yelling, the children would be awake, and the whole evening would be chaos. "I want to do this. It's a great show, and I've wanted the opportunity to try directing on it for years. It's not a genre I've got a lot of experience with."

"Ian…"

"No. I already gave my word, and I'm not going back on it." And she could live with it. She'd have to.

Bonnie stared at him for several seconds before she regained her voice.

"Fine, then you can sleep with your decision until you see reason." With that, she spun on her heel and strode to the stairs, taking them quickly.

Ian stared after her, but he didn't shout, or run, or try and catch her immediately. She wasn't going to continue the fight and he didn't want to aggravate her. She'd come around in a bit when they had both cooled down. If there was one thing he had learned over the past several years, it was that waiting it out a bit would speed along reconciliation.

At least, that was what he thought as he settled in at his desk with the pile of scripts that he needed to go over for both his current project, and the new one he'd accepted from Tanner. He quickly lost three hours of time deep in his work, and didn't look at the clock again until a yawn threatened to break his jaw.

Ian dragged himself upstairs, and turned the knob on the bedroom door, only to find it locked. "Bonnie?" he whispered in a loud hiss at the door, jiggling the knob and trying not to be loud enough to wake the babies across the hall. "Bonnie, please, let me in. Are you awake?"

There wasn't a single sound from the bedroom, not even shifting in bed. The light was out underneath the door. In all probability, Bonnie was legitimately asleep and wouldn't hear a thing he said or did unless he shouted, or banged on the door. She had to know he wouldn't do either one.

So much for reasoning things out before bed. Ian left off trying and went back downstairs. There was always the guest bedroom. At least he wouldn't be relegated to the couch. He'd just have to talk to her in the morning. Thankfully, it was Saturday and they'd have plenty of time to talk, even though Anika would be coming over in the afternoon as she and Bonnie had plans. Ian was sure she would see reason in the morning.

January 6th, 1997

"Absolutely not!" Bonnie repeated as she wiped the leftover mashed peas from lunch off Leith's face, before pulling the last of the triplets out of his highchair and taking him to join the others in their large play area in the living room. "I told you last night—I've been telling you for weeks—you're pushing too hard. You work at all hours, even in the middle of the night. You drink coffee like water, and you're barely sleeping. You don't have time for the work you do now."

Ian had hoped not bringing it up all morning and just letting Bonnie get used to the idea would help but, apparently, she had no intention of giving over on this one. But then, neither did he. "Look, it's done. I appreciate that you're concerned about me, but I can handle the workload. Once it's done, I won't take on anything else additional for a bit, I promise."

Bonnie set Leith down and then turned to look at him with blatant disbelief. "No, you won't. You've taken on more roles and work in the past year than you did in the previous three."

"And I discussed all of the rest of them with you," Ian pointed out, fighting his bubbling frustration. Bonnie had agreed to all of the film projects he had taken on. "You agreed to them."

"Given how the last one went, that's not a ringing endorsement for why I should agree to this one."

Ian felt his blood pressure spike. For all that nothing seemed to have come from the Denissa situation, it felt like it kept popping up anytime they had a disagreement. Bonnie said she didn't blame him, but the situation would not have happened if he had just kept more to himself on the road, the way the other major actors did. He hadn't caused it, but he'd also left himself open, and then neglected to mention it to Bonnie until Denissa had gotten to her first. He regretted every bit of it, but he wished it would stop casting a pall over the house. "I don't deny it, but this isn't that, and you can't deny it will be helpful. You'll just have to trust me."

Bonnie looked like she wanted to say more, but at that moment the doorbell rang. "That will be Anika. We'll discuss this more later."

You mean we'll fight about it more later. Ian followed her to the door without saying another word.

To his surprise, though he wasn't sure why he should have been, Ted came in the door with Anika and the boys.

"You don't have plans this afternoon, do you?" Ian asked Ted quietly as he watched Anika and Bonnie heard the older four children out to the back yard.

"Nothing that can't be rescheduled. Was there something you wanted to do?" Ted asked curiously.

"I just… have a lot on my mind," Ian admitted. He needed to talk to someone who wasn't going to immediately start shouting and work things out in his head. Ted would certainly do.

Ted's expression turned cautious. "Trouble in paradise?"

"You don't know the half of it."

"Then let's go somewhere else to talk," Ted suggested. "Anika won't need me again for hours."

That was definitely a good idea. The last thing Ian wanted was to be overheard at the wrong moment. It would only make the situation worse. "I know just the place."

It really was just the place, because it was one of the very few places he could walk in and be sure that not only would he not be bothered, but would not be overheard. There were a small number of low-key restaurants in town—none of them high priced or lucrative enough to seem a likely place for stars to hang out—where actors could show up and be treated as if they were just anyone else, plus the added security. Even if the press figured out someone was there, they weren't getting in.

The little restaurant took a bit of a walk to get to, but Ian didn't mind, and neither did Ted. It left the cars should the ladies need to take a pile of kids anywhere for some reason, and given his mood, Ian felt like it might just be wiser not to drive. It avoided the need to find parking as well, and no one would expect Ian Elric to be walking across town. There were some benefits to having small town sensibilities.

He appreciated that Ted didn't ask any of the burning questions during the walk, or as they arrived, got a table, and were seated. Being mid-afternoon, it was just past the lunch rush when they arrived, and the place was quiet. The corner privacy table was his preferred seat, and he was glad it was open.

The waiter who approached was familiar, though it had been a while since Ian had made it out. Still, the man recognized him and smiled. "Nice to see you again," he said warmly. "What'll it be?"

Another thing Ian liked here. They never asked personal questions, even if they knew who you were.

Ian looked at Ted, who had been perusing the menu.

"I'll have the steak and chips, and the Northern Stout," Ted ordered, setting down the menu.

Ian didn't even need to look at the menu. "The triple cheese bacon chips, and a glass of the Baylor's Whiskey, straight."

As the waiter left, Ted was looking at him warily.

Ian sighed. "Don't look at me like that. That's why you're here anyway."

"What, so Bonnie can kill us both?"

"No. To keep me from doing something irrevocably stupid."

"Pretty sure in Bonnie's definition you just did."

Ian shrugged. "So don't tell my wife. Besides, it's just one." It wasn't like he had plans to get drunk.

"You really are trying to get me killed." Ted shook his head. "Whatever you've got to tell me must be a doozy."

Ian waited until the food and drinks came before starting in. Slowly, painfully, he unraveled the whole mess to his little brother. From the concern regarding Denissa, to the new temporary directing gig. "And there you have it," he finally came to the end. "Bonnie's mad, and I don't want to go back on my word, especially not on a project I really want. So…. I'm on the couch… so to speak."

Ted looked a bit stunned. "Okay, all that's whiskey worthy," he conceded. "If Tanner's handled the situation with the woman, do you think that's over with or could it still come up and bite you in the ass?"

"That's what I'm not sure about, and I don't dare ask her myself." Ian didn't want to be seen anywhere near Denissa at this point. It would only lend credence to any rumors that there had ever been anything actually going on. The fact that she would be away for months was helpful in that department. "Really, if it blows up in the gossip columns, the worst that happens is I get dirty looks for a few weeks. At least for me. I'm more concerned about Bonnie having to deal with it all. I've done my best to keep my image streak-free window shine squeaky clean since we started going out. But I can't undo the past…and Denissa said a lot of things about me… well I wasn't expecting that perspective. I thought any of that rep was long dead."

"You were never really that wild to begin with," Ted pointed out. "Seriously, you had a few girlfriends, so what? I mean, your biggest issue is if anyone who was there ever talks, and it doesn't sound like any of the rest of them were sober enough to be able to attest to much of anything."

"Except that they only end up with my word I wasn't drunk or stoned out of my mind either," Ian pointed out. He had considered the mess from all the angles he could think of. "I'd like to think that means something, but if Denissa decides we did something, I'll have a hell of time trying to convince anyone we didn't."

"Not that it will look good for her either," Ted mused. "I mean, think about it? Still, she felt like she had to apologize to Bonnie, so doesn't that indicate that she feels responsible for it?"

"It does," Ian agreed. "But the question is what is she feeling responsible for?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm really glad I don't have your problems."

"No offense taken." Ian finished his whiskey, and set the glass down on the table, enjoying the sweet, smoky burn. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had anything stronger than a beer, and he hadn't had that many of those in the past few years either. "I wish I didn't have my problems. I've spent the past several weeks cursing my stupid, younger self…and not feeling too great about my older, smarter self even though I did exactly the right thing in the moment."

"Which you definitely did," Ted agreed. "And honestly, it doesn't sound like this woman's going to go around stirring up trouble. Not if she felt bad about it, and not if it risks her own rep as much as yours. There's nothing to be gained from it. And, frankly, if no one has brought it up yet, I doubt it's going to happen. Not sure that helps with your current angry wife problem though."

"What would you do?" Ian asked, looking at the glass in front of him.

"The fact that you are asking me for marital advice is terrifying." Ted took a slow drink of his beer. "Why didn't you call Coran, or Art…or Urey?"

"Because I wanted to have this conversation in person, and because I really didn't want to hear a bunch of know-it-all comments." Urey and Reichart fell into the first category, but Coran solidly into the latter. "Besides which, you've spent more time with Bonnie than any of the rest of them."

"All good points. Honestly, when it comes to choosing between Anika and the job, I've always picked Anika, even when it nearly got me court-martialed. So maybe I'm not the most level-headed choice for this. But…since you're asking me… I think you need to go back to Tanner on Monday and see if you can work out a compromise. Bonnie's not wrong… you look totally strung out, and you don't need it on your plate. But…I get that you really want to do this. It's a mess, and there's got to be a compromise in there somewhere."

"I hope so." He'd been as accommodating as possible for years, and he'd never taken on any additional work before without Bonnie's agreement. And yet… he couldn't call it unreasonable for her to want him to turn it down. If he hadn't wanted it so badly…

"You know Bonnie and Anika are probably have a similar conversation right now," Ted pointed out.

Oh yes, he could just imagine what they were saying. Ian nodded. "Well, maybe in basic subject. I guarantee you there's nothing for Bonnie to feel guilty for." Looking up, he caught the bartender's eye, and tapped his glass. The other man nodded and summoned a waiter.

"I think she probably feels bad about having to tell you no," Ted disagreed. "She probably felt like she had to, but she wouldn't keep you from doing something you really wanted without a reason."

The waiter brought another whiskey and took the first glass away. Ian picked it up before responding. "Probably. Doesn't change the fact I got locked out of my own bedroom. Bonnie's never done that before. Which means I crossed a line somewhere… and I'm not even sure at this point which one it was."

"You're both running on empty these days. I know Bonnie just started back not that long ago, but I think the two of you need a vacation."

"Do you want to try taking a vacation with five kids under six?"

"I meant some time just the two of you. You know… without kids in the same building."

"Are you offering to watch the entire herd?" Not that Ian would say no if Ted was. Ted and Anika were a huge help whenever either of them could make it over. But to leave all of them with anyone seemed like too much to ask.

"If necessary. I know you can't get out of town as young as they are, but make up with Bonnie, and just… take a day, or a night…and do something you both enjoy, that has nothing to do with work, or the kids."

"If we can get through this crisis first, I'll try and talk her into it." If she wanted to. It had taken her as much time to adjust to not being with the kids all day as it had for the triplets to adjust to daycare. "So, if you've got any suggestions at all for immediate salvage of the situation, I'm all ears."

Ian was feeling a little less aggravated, and a little more hopeful, when he and Ted arrived back at the house later that afternoon. The afternoon had been cathartic, therapeutic, and most importantly helpful.

Ian stood there in the entrance holding the bag as Ted scooped up his kids and Anika and Bonnie said goodbyes. He waited, hoping that this did not blow up in his face like everything else he had tried to do lately.

"Did you have a good visit?" Ian asked neutrally as Bonnie closed the door and turned to him.

She nodded, looking in a better mood than he had seen her in days. "We did. What's that?" she asked curiously, looking at the bag.

"A treat," he replied with a hopeful smile. "For us, and for the kids. We walked past that bakery on Quince Street while we were out wandering and I thought we might enjoy something after dinner." He offered the bag.

Bonnie took it, poking her head in curiously. "Oh, I love these!" A genuine smile crossed her face. "Just enough for us to share."

Well, that was a point for him, finally. "That was the idea." Okay, he had her in a good mood. Time to hit her with the big stuff. "I'm sorry, Bonnie…about last night. I know why you don't want me to take on more work, and I really want to do it but… but I can't handle fighting with you. I don't want to fight. It hurts worse than anything." He held out his arms, hoping she might take the apology in the spirit in which it was meant.

He had no way of knowing what Anika had said to Bonnie, but he had a moment of hope as her expression softened, and she slipped into his arms and hugged him. "I'm sorry, too," she replied softly. "I don't want to keep you from doing something you love, but I worry about how all this running ragged is bad for your health."

Ian's arms closed tightly around her. "I know, love." He tilted his head enough to give her a lopsided little smile, and kissed her.

For the first few seconds, she returned it warmly. Then he felt her stiffen in his arms, and Bonnie pulled back. "You're… oh my god. Are you drunk?" An expression of disbelieving horror crossed her face as she stepped back, arms dropping to her sides. She licked her lips once, and he realized she must have tasted, as well as smelled, the whiskey.

Shit… "No, I'm not," he replied, forcing himself not to sound defensive. "Ted and I got a late snack and had a couple of drinks, but I am unequivocally not drunk."

But the suspicion was back in her eyes now; suspicion, and hurt. "I… I don't even know what to say." She shook her head, the bag in her left hand apparently forgotten. "I can't… we'll discuss this later. The babies will be up from their nap soon and I've got to get dinner on or we won't eat tonight."

"I'll help," Ian offered, but before he could take a step forward Bonnie was shaking her head.

"No. I've got it. You… why don't you go finish the laundry?" she suggested hurriedly, before turning and hurrying into the kitchen.

Smooth moves, Elric. Ian felt a lump form in his throat, but he turned and headed upstairs. The laundry usually got folded on their bed. In the moment he felt simultaneously as if he had made a mess of things again, and yet that he also hadn't had quite enough to drink to face the situation. Which only made him feel sorrier.

Bonnie didn't think the stew on the stove needed more salt, but the tears dripping off her face seemed to feel differently. After talking it all through with Anika, she thought she had a handle on her own feelings, and how to come to a compromise on the whole situation. She was sure Ted and Ian had been having a similar conversation. The two of them were close, and if one or the other had a problem, they would disappear for a while and talk it out.

When they had gotten home, she had hoped they could sit down and work it out while the kids were napping. It had been going so well, when he stepped up and apologized right off…and then she'd tasted it…and smelled it. Not a little beer… not a glass of wine even… but the unmistakable taste of hard liquor…

If Ian was drinking in the middle of the afternoon, something was very, very wrong, and if he had been drinking—and Ted hadn't stopped him—than how much of his apology was sincere? And how much was desperation to end their argument? How much of any of it could she trust?

Bonnie hated arguing with Ian. It had been so long since they had fought about anything, that the past few weeks had felt like a bad dream at several points. After all the drama of their early relationship, everything had been so smooth, so calm and easy for the past few years, that she had almost forgotten this pain… this ache in her heart.

Bonnie didn't need to ask why he was drinking. He was upset about their argument, probably more about the fact they were fighting at all than her expressed preference that he not take the extra work… for his own health. Somehow that seemed to have taken a permanent back seat ever since they found out about the triplets.

The mess with Denissa was stressful on both of them, but Anika seemed to think that if the woman had apologized and then dropped the subject, nothing further would come of it. Bonnie fervently hoped so. The fact that it was someone she had known and respected as a colleague for several years, hurt. She absolutely believed Ian that he hadn't led her on, and that he had been sober at the time. But there was something there that was still bothering him about it.

Ian had clearly hit a breaking point… but at least he'd had the forethought to take Ted with him. So, maybe they could make progress from here. They would have to find the time to talk it all through, and soon. If he really wanted to do the job, she wasn't going to hold it against him, but he was going to have to find something else to let go of. One person could only take so much. Even two people could only handle a certain amount. They needed more consistent help around the house, and Bonnie and Anika had brainstormed a few ideas for how to make that work.

Not that being back at work was any easier on her. In fact, she was debating if she shouldn't…maybe… focus her entire career on the clothing lines for Silverman's and step back from working at the studio. Not that she didn't love it, but it would give her the ability to work from the house more of the time. The pace was less hectic, and Grandpa Silverman said that her line was one of his most popular. Now that it was established, and sold well every year, they could probably make due.

Ian's observations about working in the industry were things she noted herself, not that she had ever been a fan of certain aspects of the "scene." It might be less stressful on both of them, if at least one of their careers was no longer tied up in CV Studios.

But she hadn't had the chance to say it. The fact he'd been drinking at all, after so long, had thrown her for a loop. Oh sure, he had the occasional beer. She had never tried to forbid him from doing so. That would have been ridiculous and unfair. Yet, he had mostly stopped drinking without her having to ask, because he respected her concerns, after the troubles her father had had years ago, and the behavior of her previous two serious boyfriends.

Not that he had ever been the drunken partier his reputation implied… not most of the time.

It had just shocked her today, and she felt off-balance. He had been so wonderful through her entire pregnancy, and the early months when Samantha, Leith, and Donovan were newborns. He was still a wonderful father. They would get through this patch… but she had forgotten just how much it hurt.

Once she had everything in the pot and the stew covered and simmering, she went upstairs. Maybe they still had a few minutes to reconcile things. Or at least make a start.

The bedroom door was open, and the laundry was all neatly folded, and stacked perfectly in separate basket for each member of the family. The baskets were lined up neatly at the end of the bed.

Ian, however, was nowhere in sight.

There was, she realized after a moment, a note on top of the laundry. Why would he leave her a note? Nervously, she went over and picked it up.

Noticed we're out of laundry detergent. Went to get more. Back in a bit.

He'd gone back out this close to dinner? She hadn't even heard him leave. Bonnie dropped the note and hurried downstairs. Looking outside, she could see the car in the drive. At least he'd had the sense to walk, even though she could only imagine how long it would take. The nearest convenience store with detergent was at least fifteen minutes each way on foot.

And from the darkening clouds above, there was a storm coming in. As she watched, lightning flashed across the sky, and a loud peal of thunder shook the house.

Upstairs, multiple tiny voices started crying.

Biting off a silent curse, Bonnie turned and headed back upstairs. Joanna and Zachary were already in the hallway, looking bleary and startled, but not too scared. The screaming triplets were another story.

Zachary had his hands over his ears. "They're too loud!"

"I know, sweetie. They're scared." Bonnie gave each of them a quick hug. "They don't know about thunder and rain yet. Why don't you two take some books or a game and go downstairs. Stay away from the kitchen, the stove's hot right now. I'll bring the rest down and maybe we can cheer them up, okay?"

"Got it!" Joanna hurried back to her room, with Zachary behind her.

Relieved that the older two weren't going to be part of the problem, Bonnie entered the babies' room, where all three of her infants were standing in their cribs, holding onto the bars and screaming.

Bonnie didn't hesitate. From experience, she headed straight for Samantha first. Her littlest daughter was the easiest to soothe, and the fastest to calm down. If she could get her calmed, that would help with the boys.

"Easy, Sammie." Bonnie put her up on her shoulder, and started walking, rubbing Samantha's back and humming a little song she always used when calming them. "It's okay. It's just a little thunder."

Of all the times… hurry Ian. Please.

Of all the stupid things Ian had done in his life, he was beginning to feel that this might be the stupidest. Bonnie had been startled and upset earlier.

When he got home…she was going to be furious.

The rain had caught him unprepared, but he didn't care. Sitting under a tree, mostly dry, as the rain dumped down around him, was not the worst place be stupid drunk. Tucked back as the bench was, no one could see him here. And even if they could, he was hardly recognizable in the unnotably boring gray coat, driving cap, and the least stylish and most generic pair of shades he owned. It hadn't been raining when he left the house, so they weren't too odd for him to have on.

He had bought the promised detergent. He just hadn't said when he'd be home, and the rain was a convenient delay.

Botched that up…. Like everything else. At least now she's not wrong… you want drunk…I'll give you drunk.

Above his head, beyond the trees, was the light show of the year. He could almost feel the electricity pulsing in the sky, and wondered as he worked his way steadily through the bottle of convenience store wine, if that was at all what it felt like to transmute with alchemy. Uncle Alphonse had described it to him, years ago, when he had been cast as Grandpa Ed in that movie.

If I could transmute…maybe I'd have a way out of this mess. Not that alchemy worked that way. If it did…surely Ted would have offered a more useful solution. The plan failing wasn't Ted's fault though. Ian should have known better…

By the time he finished the bottle, the rain had not let up, and Ian resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to try making a dash for it in storm. Or wait it out in the growing dark with no end to the rain in sight.

C'mon… I've done harder. Getting to his feet, Ian steadied himself. The last time he had been well and truly plastered… had been before Reggie died. Not that he hadn't drunk after that, but never as much as before.

Gods…I forgot how hard it is to walk in a straight line. Squinting into the storm, he focused on the nearest lamppost, which had just come on with the oncoming darkness. If he followed the lights…he could get there, surely. It was only a few blocks back to the house.

One foot forward…the other foot…forward. Just…gotta get there.

Something was wrong.

Dinner came and went. Bonnie got the kids fed, with Joanna's help with feeding the babies, and Zachary being thankfully independent and not making a huge mess with his cooled bowl of stew and his spoon.

Tonight, was supposed to be bath night, but trying to do all of them was simply not going to be possible, and with the storm, undesirable. She settled for putting the triplets down first, which took forever trying to walk them all to sleep. Joanna and Zachary were enlisted to keep whichever babies she wasn't getting into their crib quietly entertained so they weren't screaming their heads off.

By the time she got all three in bed, it was well past bedtime for the older two. She had Joanna and Zachary wipe down their hands and faces extra well, and brush their teeth, and then read them a story before tucking them in.

It was still dumping rain out in the darkness, but at least the thunder and lightning had passed.

The older two fell asleep.

Nine o'clock passed.

At three hours late, Bonnie began to feel a sense of panic. Ian was never late like this. If he'd gotten caught somewhere in the rain, he would have found a phone and called her. He always called her…

Until tonight.

What have I done? Oh… Ian… what have you done?

Had he even really gone to the store? He had looked so hurt earlier… as hurt as she had felt in that moment.

Ian wouldn't have walked out… he couldn't. The rain had gotten him caught up somewhere where he couldn't call. It was the most logical answer, and she wasn't going to let her imagination get the better of her. Ian was a sensible, responsible person. Everyone got stressed out and needed to relax now and again.

The feeling of terror building in her did not need to be fed.

Finally, just after ten, the phone rang.

Bonnie practically vaulted the couch to get to the phone. "Hello? Ian?"

"Mrs. Elric?" an unfamiliar female voice came over the line.

Bonne almost swallowed her tongue. "This is Bonnie Elric."

"This is Sergeant Maurer down at Station Twelve. We picked your husband up lost in the rain and brought him to the station."

Oh, thank heavens. Her heart started to beat again…her lungs to breathe. As bad as the weather was, he must have gotten turned around somewhere. "Is he all right, Officer?"

"He's uninjured, ma'am," the voice continued in a cool, detached professionalism. "But we can't release him for seventy-two hours. We picked him up due to a call regarding a case of public intoxication."

When I get a hold of you Ian… you are a dead man. Bonnie took a deep, steadying breath. "How much is the fine?" She knew there was a pretty solid fine for public intoxication, but having never been drunk, she had no idea how much.

"Seeing as it's a first offense, fourteen thousand sens, and we'll hold him for the full seventy-two hours."

Bonnie felt mildly guilty at her surprise that it was in fact, truly a first offense, then relieved. If they were holding him, they weren't planning to sentence him to additional jail time. "Thank you, officer. I'll be by when you're done with him to pay the fine."

"Visitors are permitted during standard office hours, if you want to come by ma'am."

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind. Good night, Officer."

The sobs held down until she picked up the phone, then they ripped from her throat was a ferocity she was afraid would wake the children….but she couldn't stop. Ian you idiot…

Ian was going to die of mortification. If the papers didn't get a hold of this and run him through the muck, he would be shocked. I'm giving them the headline they've been dying for… and I walked right into it. Or stumbled, more accurately.

Of all the moronic…

Here he was, stuck in a jail cell, alone… Ian supposed he should be grateful he was alone. If he was incredibly lucky, no one else would get brought in and see him there, stumbling drunk. In the rain, he had lost complete sense of direction, and had wandered looking for a familiar street until the police car had pulled up.

This is it… the all-time low. Tanner is going to have my hide…. Bonnie is going to murder me, if I'm lucky.

The officers had been polite enough. He hadn't argued when they told him why they had been called, and got him in the car, and brought him to the station. He had cooperated through processing. What was he going to do, pretend he wasn't stumbling around drunk in the dark?

While he'd never been picked up, he knew from acquaintances what to expect. A fine, and the seventy-two hours of holding for observation he'd already been informed of.

Seventy-two hours in which literally everyone he worked with was going to discover that Ian had totally blown it. There was no way he would make work on Monday, or Tuesday. He'd be lucky to make it in for part of Wednesday, if he dared.

Seventy-two hours Bonnie was left to take care of all five kids.

Seventy-two hours for his entire family to find out about it. His brothers and sister… his parents… Only time drunk in nearly two decades and I'm in jail. Figures.

The hard white-painted metal bench, in the white cell, with white bars, was the worst and most uncomfortable room Ian had ever experienced. I'll have to remember this feeling if they ever pitch me a role as a felon.

A life experience he would really rather have done without.

"Alive in there?"

Ian did not appreciate the note of humor in the voice that came from the front of his cell. He opened his eyes, and looked at the balding police officer in front of him. "Unfortunately," he quipped in reply. "Have you heard from my wife?"

"We reached her," the officer nodded. "She said she'll be by to get you when we're done with you. Not sure what you did…but I wouldn't expect a visit before then."

Of course not. Bonnie was probably planning their divorce.

Well, not really. But he could bet she was going to—justifiably—give him hell about this for weeks, at least.

"I'm sure she's furious," he replied with a tired shrug. His water-heavy clothing barely moved. "I don't suppose you've got a towel around here?" He wasn't about to ask for a change of clothes. Anything they had probably had prison stripes, and he was not that desperate.

"I'm sure I can dig one up," the officer replied affably enough. "I'm also permitted to offer you a cup of coffee."

"Please."

When the officer returned a few minutes later, it was with the promised towel, and a mug of plain, black, bitter coffee that was probably the dregs of the last coffee pot. Ian didn't complain. He just thanked the officer and sat back down, using the towel to get the worst of the water out of his clothes and his hair, and the sludge to kick start sobering up.

From his cell, there was only a vague sense of outdoor light somewhere out of sight. Sometime around the first glow of dawn, he found himself successfully drowsing off. If he was lucky, he'd be asleep to not see anyone who might come through to gawk.