cavalcades | open | hermann gottlieb

( maternity leave would've been unthinkable, a few months ago. she'd been taking on less responsibilities, granted - not very graciously - but they couldn't afford not to have all hands on deck. it is in a manner of speaking largely due to her husband that she can afford to be not going into work today, that she gets to relax a little bit and spend more time with their daughter, still so young but with so much more possible life spread out in front of her.

it gives her the time and space to look around their home and feel the way the air in it has changed, since he saw what her steady, surgeon's hands are capable of. that context isn't irrelevant to the way she turns from her dressing table, fingers holding an unfinished braid in place, and for just a moment wonders if pentecost would know about his request if she were to mention it.

she doesn't quite feel guilty for thinking that, but she can't be sure whether the reason she knows she won't ask is because she knows better or because she doesn't want to be told. )

Then he can't keep you late.

( well, he could, they both know that. )

One would hope.

[ to be fair, hermann has no intentions of overstaying his welcome in the lab (though he does wonder whether or not such a thing would be possible, given what he's done and who he is; hermann gives himself no shortage of opportunities to bask in pride), and her comment does strike a chord in him. he deflates, shoulders sinking, and he shoves one hand in his pocket as the other reaches for his cane against the bedside table.

he stands still, fingers flexing against the head of the cane, before he takes another breath - a huff, more like, and starts toward the door. but something stills him, stops him midstep, and he turns back to her. ]

You'll - be alright with Driscoll, presumably.

( she's done this before -- been the housewife, juggling motherhood with household responsibilities, pinning up her hair and frowning in mirrors at husbands who think it's a good idea to overwork themselves incessantly. she isn't sure whether telling him so would help or hinder; they've stepped with care around the absence of a corpse in their home, and not much discussed what it means. how much history she has, how many different lives she's lived before this one.

maybe they should, she thinks. maybe that's something that would help. )

She'll nap for a while, I can get a few things done while she's down, ( with a small, genuine smile; she's easily warmed by discussion of their daughter. ) We'll be just fine. Do you want me to pick anything up for you today? I was thinking of taking her out for a little while.

( after the edgy seclusion of her pregnancy, never venturing far from the nearest fortified position-- even if it's raining, the buggy has a PVC storm cover attachment, and driscoll will doze beneath it through her mum's daily jog. )

[ oh, they definitely should, and hermann knows that. but there's a defense tactic that goes up along with it - there's something out of the ordinary, and he has to remain rigid against that. fall headfirst into routine, do what he knows is correct rather than right, until time has sufficiently passed. which, truthfully, it may have already done. ]

And you'll be sure to take care, won't you? [ not that, after all he's seen, she necessarily needs it, but there's so many questions, and what does this mean for driscoll, and of course she'll be safe, but hermann presents nothing but cold placidity and vehement denial in the midst of confusion. ] I believe I'll have everything I need at the lab. For now.

( probably he'd have taken it better if it hadn't involved a beheading. not well, she imagines; she never thought he'd take it well. but better. it'd be easier if they'd just fight about it - although maybe that would be even worse, actually, considering her tendency to aim for the emotional weak spots with her words and the head or knees with crockery. )

I always do.

( one last little primp - most of her hair is down, two twists holding it back off her face, and a swipe of nude lipstick makes her presentable. apparently. she half-turns when she's done, resting a hand on the back of her stool behind her and leaning her weight on it-- )

Hansen promised Dris a playdate with Max, so I'm going to stop in later and check on his shoulder. Don't be startled.

( 'don't think I'm just showing up to check up on you', also, though she suspects hermann does know full well she wouldn't pretend to be doing anything else if that were the case. theirs has long been a relationship where she has informed him bluntly and at length of her intentions. )

As though I would ever be.

[ it's delivered in enough good humor that, momentarily, hermann forgets the tension and all the things remaining unsaid regarding - well. things. decapitation. blood splatters on the wall. things like that. for a moment, he continues to stand quietly, eyes shifting toward the door, but he idly taps his cane against the bedroom floor for a moment before suggesting: ]

Perhaps, should you visit early enough, I could take my lunch with you?

[ see, he's not entirely avoiding her. just tiptoeing. walking on eggshells after what's occurred. hermann clears his throat and, head down, looks upward at her in expectation of her response. ]

Oh, that's perfect. He can babysit.

( yeah she's just volunteering a wounded man to contend with a small child, whatever, herc would probably cop an attitude if someone suggested he (and whoever he inevitably ropes into helping him with baby and dog) couldn't handle it. they haven't had a lot of time to themselves, with the kaiju and the baby (proportionately similar situations), and vanessza is inclined to take it wherever she can get it.

particularly now. they need to spend some time together, she thinks; remember why they got married in the first place, why they work, why it wasn't the dealbreaker she'd been afraid it might be. )

open | hermann gottlieb

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mighty morphin wife

O DEER

a fox in any incarnation

t r u t h

im so late i love u