Abi had been lounging when her partner stormed back in through their apartment. Charlie was happily napping after a busy morning running around the park in a cardboard box painted like Thomas and she was catching up on some alone time with her good books. Her peace, however, was disturbed by the thunderous, heavy footsteps of her boyfriend, hammering through the apartment with a gun under his arm and a scowl on his face. God, he'd talked to Jack after all. No good had to have come from it.
Resigned to the fact that her peace was dead and gone, Abi took one last sip of her tea before getting up and going over to his office, not bothering to knock on the door. Without a word, she came inside, shut the door behind her and pulled the bottle of whiskey from his grip.