WHO: Bess & Drystan Fawcett
WHAT: Drystan finds something that isn't his..
WHERE: Their flat
WHEN: After Hawaii!



Bess let out a happy sigh as she closed the front door. This had really been a wonderful week. A surprise, completely free trip to Hawaii, with adults, with her husband who had not had two days off in a row in months, and now her parents had decided to randomly take all three kids to a theater show. Something about elephants and weasels, Bess really didn’t know but it was something muggle and she was just glad that her parents were becoming so accepting of her life and kids.

She’d think more about how nice that was after she was done taking advantage of her husband tonight. Bess pulled her hair down as she made her way from the front door to the living room, wondering if she should at least wait for the children to be outside the complex before jumping their father. But how could she waste any more time? Until April rolled around, Drystan’s schedule was going to be insane, and even though it was her decision to stay home from work until Brian was a bit older (and of course, because Sadie and Stephen had cried and cried when she talked about going back to work), a girl still went a bit mad being at home all day with little people under the age of five.

Entering the living room, Bess let out a breath, noticing that her husband hadn’t heard her approaching, because his back was still turned. She waited a beat, and then let out another sound, hoping to catch his attention so he can see how good her tan looked against her white sleeveless shirt.

In point of fact, the week had turned out better than anticipated. Even Drystan had to admit this, though only to himself and certainly not to his wife. Hawaii upon return didn't seem so bad. A respite from three endless bundles of energy… Bess in a bathing costume… really, not bad at all. Of course, he already had little patience for social events, but he was doubly on edge given his itching desire to practice more in order to make up for the United's worthy but undeniably costly protest. He liked to think Bess either had not noticed or was simply thrilled to be in an exotic locale amongst people who carried on conversation using both subjects and predicates in the correct order and tense with the added bonus of coming up to more than mid-thigh in height. Which, of course, simply brought the memory of Sadie clinging to his knee earlier before being ushered out the door and a small smile to his face at the time. Yes, a brief respite was really all the two of them could manage, at the end of the day.

Having seen the children and grandparents out the door, satisfied to see that relationship blossoming when it might not even have existed before, he turned to the living room with the intention of a nice, quiet evening at home. Just before sitting down, he was waylaid by a soft crack just beneath his foot. When it lifted, Drystan saw an oblong brown object jutting out from underneath the sofa. Frowning at how it was time to have the "tidy" talk again with Stephen, he bent to scoop it up and was surprised to see it wasn't a toy at all, but his shin guard.

Or, as he eyed its length and glanced dubiously down at his own leg, not his shin-guard.

Brows drawn together in consternation, he made his way to the bedroom as he stared at the guard in hand as if trying to make sense of it.

It was a peculiar process, trying to understand this foreign object and how it had randomly appeared in his home, one he was still absorbed in when he heard Bess entering. With a frown, he turned around and held it out. "This isn't mine."

Her lips twisted. Not exactly what she wanted to hear, but! Bess stepped forward and took a look at the thing in Drystan’s hand, and for a second couldn’t place what exactly it was. Then she saw the straps, and her mind shot back to a Puddlemere practice last week where she’d brought the kids to visit. Of course there had been chaos, some of the other players’ kids had already been there and it always turned into some big game of tag or hide and seek---when they’d gotten home, Bess had noticed one of the bags she had picked up wasn’t one they’d brought. Or Drystan’s! She’d accidentally picked up one of the other men’s equipment, and...well, she’d been busy!

She’d forgotten about it, to be honest. Bess had thought she’d stored it in her closet, but Sadie was always digging around in there. Maybe she’d gotten hold of it? But how could she tell Drystan that she’d simply forgotten to return some of his teammate’s probably very expensive equipment after a week?

Bess fingered the shin-guard quickly, a slight bit of confusion popping into her head as she noticed a green stripe going down one of the straps. Maybe it was a custom. “Of course it is,” she lied, hoping to save some face before having to admit the mix up, “It’s a bit too big for Brian, don’t you think?”

Because he had no better explanation, and because she may have been right, Drystan stooped to hold it against his own, happening to turn it just so, so the green stripe side of the straps flopped over. He didn't need to wear it now, because he knew that these weren't his. But did his wife?

He couldn't explain it, couldn't really put a finger on why it crept upon him so steadily, but there they were, just in his head where he didn't want them. Where he could feel himself forcibly pushing them away. There were a million innocuous explanations for this scrap he was holding in his hands. But all that ran through his head were whispered nasty thoughts he wished hadn't been given voice to, and wished even more he was not falling prey to listening to. She was his wife, after all. His. Them. Together. Together didn't do the things running through his head.

Very deliberately, he strapped the guard in place, where it rested lopsidedly against his leg, far from the perfect alignment of the ones tailored to his odd length. Drystan's look was deliberate as he met her eyes.

"It's not mine, Bess," he repeated, looking at her with an expressionless face. "Do you know where it came from?"

Oh, damn it. Bess had really been hoping it’d been a teammate who could interchange things easily. She let out a sound, flushing as it was a bit embarrassing to be caught like this, but! It wasn’t that serious of a thing. So she’d made up a little lie, it was mostly so they could just drop the subject and get down to enjoying their child-free night. Bess immediately guilty for the thought and her shoulders slumped. She knew she looked remarkably guilty, and when Bess was in the wrong, her face usually showed it.

“All right, I lied. I picked up the wrong bag last week and forgot to return it.” She smirked, his expression making her feel like she was going to be in a bit of trouble with whoever’s stuff she’d inadvertently stolen, “I meant to give it back, but--honestly, I just forgot and I haven’t had the time!”

Were they really that expensive, that important? Drystan seemed to think so, and she dropped her gaze down to the shin-guard, wondering how she hadn’t been able to notice the difference right away. Men and their toys, she supposed. Running a hand through her hair, Bess looked back up at her husband, a bit red in the face for getting caught; too bad she couldn’t bat her eyes and pout her lips like Sadie did to get out of these little messes.

“I’ll bring it back tomorrow and apologize.”

Rising, he tossed the bothersome item to the side and turned to face her, his look growing stonily detached by the moment. Drystan was very careful to not feel a thing, because if he did, it would be white hot anger and a kind of sickness and a panic so great that there would be nothing able to contain it. But he didn't feel any of those things, not even a little bit, because he was staring right at his wife's eyes without really seeing them.

How was he supposed to believe that? First it was she didn't know, then it was they must have his. Now it was that she'd picked up the wrong teammate's belongings yet hadn't mentioned it to him or returned it to the person in question. A strike of something hot and uncomfortable curled in his gut in spite of his best efforts.

Drystan folded his arms and lifted his chin. "Bess, if there's something you want to tell me, then do it. Don't lie to me. Please."

Well, goodness. He was far more put off about this than she thought he’d be. Bess shrugged uncomfortably, moving to pick up the shin guard because it was one of his teammate’s and he shouldn’t be tossing it around like that. Merlin knew that Drystan would have a bit of a silent fit if he found out his equipment was being thrown around, or had been found under the couch because a two year old had gotten hold of it. Bess’ fingers fiddled with the strap, looking up at Drystan was a flushed face. Sorry.

“I picked up the wrong bag,” Bess put her hands up, the shin guard hanging by its strap around her wrist, “I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

She was getting slightly perturbed at his attitude and glare. She’d buy the bloke new equipment if it mattered that much, she’d go and give it back herself if this was some high and mighty ‘it’s the principle of the matter’ kick he was going on. Bess crossed her arms, feeling as if her husband was judging her because of this mishap.

He stared at her. Just stared, as that was all he had the capability to do. He thought about saying something, perhaps even opened his mouth, but closed it quite quickly afterward, because he simply had no words. A swirling pit of confusion, certainly, but no words in which to put it into. It was a peculiar thing to, for once in his life, have something to say but not find the words.

The muscles in his jaw worked slightly as he studied her, noting the crossed arms and the narrowed eyes but not quite caring. And then he laughed. Just laughed, which wasn't what he had expected, but was what was happening, and just walked over, took her face into his hands and kissed her, fierce and hard. Backing her slowly into the wall, he pulled back, kissed her once more for good measure, then dropped his hands.

"Give it back tomorrow," he called over his shoulder as he walked out the door, to his couch and novel and quiet evening, just as planned.

Bess was left, stunned and against the wall after her husband had nearly attacked her with his lips. What was that about? She blinked a few times, pushing her hair out of her face and wondering if Drystan was just ending what could have been a big fight. Maybe she should be thankful that he’d made that decision because Bess couldn’t recall a huge fight she’d had since their marriage had begun. Little tiffs here and there, yes, but nothing that would shaken the walls like the fights Bess has had with people in the past. Maybe his ending the discussion with a kiss was the best for both parties, and instead of following him she turned quickly toward her closet to put the bloody shin guard back in its bag.

She shut the door behind her so that Drystan couldn’t surprise her and find the hidden bag. Bess pulled it open, sighing as she pulled it out, but noticing that it had an elaborate tie around the zipper. There was no way either Sadie or Stephen would have been able to re-tie that knot, and if the shinguard hadn’t come from there...where the hell had it come from? Bess sat back onto the floor and examined it. The green stripe intrigued her, and upon closer examination noticed that it was not a solid green stripe, but in fact there were lighter green K’s in the design.

“Oh, no,” Bess let out in amusement, her eyes going toward the door, as if she could see the walls and straight into Penelope’s bedroom. Someone had a Kestrel over while the flat had been empty.