|Cho Chang (formerchinadoll) wrote in after_the_bombs,|
@ 2012-07-22 15:49:00
Somewhere in the Scottish Highlands there was a blanket. This blanket was spread upon the ground beneath a rather scraggly tree that cast just enough of a shadow to shade a basket-cradle. Within the basket-cradle was a tiny, sleepy blonde cherub. Upon the blanket was a larger, though still tiny by adult standards, version of the blonde cherub. The elder blonde was also fast asleep with her head pillowed on the thigh of the man who was watching over both.
The man was quite impressed that they managed to stay asleep considering the noise that the wild heathens cavorting around them were making.
Said heathens, who consisted of a wild haired little girl, a rather muddy little boy and a very muddy dog, finally appeared to have reached the end of the game involving a frisbee, three sticks and a rather mangled straw hat. They flopped down with the bonelessness of the young upon the blanket and stared at him expectantly.
“Aren't Mama and Cordy done sleeping yet?” Ainsley asked, “We're hungry!”
“Yeah, hungry!” echoed Bruce. If Jock could have spoken, Callen had no doubt that he would have said the same. As it was, the dog had to make due with drooling in the general direction of the picnic basket.
He looked down at his wife's peaceful face and could see the edge of a smirk lurking beneath her otherwise smooth expression. “I don't know, Ainsley. Let me check.” Callen leaned over and kissed his wife softly. He was not at all surprised when her little hand snaked up to hold him in place for a nice, long smooch any more than he was surprised by the 'ew-ing' chorus that arose from their oldest two.
You didn't have to be a criminal profiler to predict some things.