[ her time slots for visitations are always fairly unpredictable, but the fact that she's there at all isn't entirely one, even if he realizes he hadn't entirely anticipated it when he woke up this morning. it's a good thing wynonna has a knack for sleeping in late.
but his nose scrunches up when she shows off her purpose for the visit, frown visible with deep lines curving downwards. ]
The hell are they doing there? [ under the sink, of all places. ] You know there's cupboards to put that in, right? Hell, even the fridge would make more sense.
[ that earns a fold between his brows, signaled bewilderment that actually momentarily distracts him from the entire scenario he's even found himself in, reminded of it again when laura presents that very blunt question.
ah.
his lips part but nothing audible comes out to start, only briefly wondering how the hell laura even knows she's there in the first place before his senses come back to remind him of laura's keen scent that could draw out just about anyone, most likely.
even if she hadn't, it's not like they did a great job at concealing the pair of jeans tossed carelessly on the sofa, clearly too snug to fit on frank's hips.
gnawing at his lips, he keeps his gaze on laura, focused. ] No, she's ... sleeping.
[Whether or not you would eat her poptarts will be seen in time, Stinky Pete.
Laura doesn't seem particularly prepared to be scandalized by the thought; does she even know what sex is, really? So maybe Pete's spared. Maybe this is all just some big sleepover to her. Yes. One can pray.]
You seem to like her a lot.
Your apartment always smells like her.
[Oh but she's not done embarrassing them, not by a longshot.]
[ if he can keep it under the premise of a "sleepover", he'd be a very happy dad indeed.
still, that doesn't entirely diminish the sense of awkwardness he feels when laura carries on, putting him even further on the spot. considering it's far too early to be dealing with this, he begins making that track further into the kitchen, over to his signature spot at the coffee maker, pulling out a bag of grounds from the cupboard. ]
Yeah, I, uh β I guess I do. [ like her. ] Well, she's a good woman, y'know. Always helps me out when I'm in a pinch. [ he turns back to laura, a shrug off one shoulder. ] Guess you knew that, since you picked her out to check up on me.
[ Now would be the perfect time for Wynonna to walk in, right?
Maybe thatβs debatable, but in her defense, she hadnβt been woken up by the sounds of not just one voice but two in conversation; it could be that she has a sixth sense dedicated to knowing when people are about to make a fresh pot of coffee.
But by all appearances, she looks pretty well-rested and not necessarily in immediate need of caffeine when she finally emerges from the bedroom, hair sleep-mussed and slightly tangled, wearing a hoodie thatβs definitely not her size judging by the way it hits her legs around mid-thigh. (She wouldβve grabbed something that wasnβt his, but sheβd had some trouble locating her pants.) ]
Hey, didnβt you say you had an extra β
[ Thatβs as far as she gets before she spots the tiny badass munching on a poptart at the kitchen table, and her eyes widen before darting back and forth between where Lauraβs sitting and Frank situated at the counter, coffee grounds in hand. ]
[ he doesnβt have a response ready, not even as his lips drop open with surprise as laura makes that apparent observation: you have a weakness for nice ladies and small children.
it isnβt that it isnβt the truth, even if he doesnβt normally make conscious awareness of it, but whatβs more intriguing is lauraβs way of picking it apart, how thatβs somehow become her understanding of who he is. itβs that and possibly the way she talks about certain methods of keeping him in bed.
he squints deeply, confusion and surprise in his expression just as he hears the creak of an opening door. peering behind where laura sits, he catches sight of wynonna as she steps further through the apartment, closing in on the kitchen as he realizes exactly what she happens to be wearing. ]
Oh, boy. [ taking a deep breath, he runs his hand over his face, rubbing at his eyes before his fingers merely scratch at his chin through his beard. ] Laura. You know Wynonna.
[Spoken like it's the most normal thing for her to say, really, as she crams more pop-tart into her face like she'll go hungry any second if she doesn't. Where the child has learned about this sort of thing remains unclear, considering she grew up in a cell β but make no mistake, you two: it been knew.
[ Her immediate instinct is to deny, deny, deny, but she knows from personal experience that some kids have a pretty keen bullshit detector, and it wouldn't surprise her if Laura falls into that camp given what she's been through β but then there's the question of whether or not Laura actually knows what she's referring to along those lines.
Could be someone's actually had the birds and the bees talk with her at some point, or it could be that she just thinks sex is like this very long, extended handshake. Either way, Wynonna's suddenly very aware of her own very pantsless state, even if she is technically wearing more layers than just Frank's sweatshirt.
Oh, and he's not going to be any help at all in this, apparently, as evidenced by the fact that he's still turned toward the coffee maker; she narrows her eyes at him before trying to paste a friendlier smile on her face for Laura's sake. ]
We're, um. Friends. Good friends. The kind of friends that you make when you're much, much older and can legally vote. Or drink. Definitely then. [ And in response to Laura's other swiping, she waves a dismissive hand, the other subtly trying to pull the hem of the hoodie further down her legs. ] Don't sweat it. Coffee and toothpaste don't mix well anyway.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
but his nose scrunches up when she shows off her purpose for the visit, frown visible with deep lines curving downwards. ]
The hell are they doing there? [ under the sink, of all places. ] You know there's cupboards to put that in, right? Hell, even the fridge would make more sense.
no subject
A glance to the cupboards.]
... But it is better to hide things where people do not expect them.
So you can have them all to yourself later.
[She chomps into another one, and before Frank can address this properly:]
Is Wynonna coming out soon, too?
no subject
[ that earns a fold between his brows, signaled bewilderment that actually momentarily distracts him from the entire scenario he's even found himself in, reminded of it again when laura presents that very blunt question.
ah.
his lips part but nothing audible comes out to start, only briefly wondering how the hell laura even knows she's there in the first place before his senses come back to remind him of laura's keen scent that could draw out just about anyone, most likely.
even if she hadn't, it's not like they did a great job at concealing the pair of jeans tossed carelessly on the sofa, clearly too snug to fit on frank's hips.
gnawing at his lips, he keeps his gaze on laura, focused. ] No, she's ... sleeping.
no subject
Laura doesn't seem particularly prepared to be scandalized by the thought; does she even know what sex is, really? So maybe Pete's spared. Maybe this is all just some big sleepover to her. Yes. One can pray.]
You seem to like her a lot.
Your apartment always smells like her.
[Oh but she's not done embarrassing them, not by a longshot.]
no subject
still, that doesn't entirely diminish the sense of awkwardness he feels when laura carries on, putting him even further on the spot. considering it's far too early to be dealing with this, he begins making that track further into the kitchen, over to his signature spot at the coffee maker, pulling out a bag of grounds from the cupboard. ]
Yeah, I, uh β I guess I do. [ like her. ] Well, she's a good woman, y'know. Always helps me out when I'm in a pinch. [ he turns back to laura, a shrug off one shoulder. ] Guess you knew that, since you picked her out to check up on me.
no subject
But it can wait until you've got coffee to spray everywhere.]
She seemed very nice. And I know you have a weakness for nice ladies and small children.
It's the best way to keep you in bed instead of trying to do things while you're hurt.
[............. She smiles around her poptart.]
no subject
Maybe thatβs debatable, but in her defense, she hadnβt been woken up by the sounds of not just one voice but two in conversation; it could be that she has a sixth sense dedicated to knowing when people are about to make a fresh pot of coffee.
But by all appearances, she looks pretty well-rested and not necessarily in immediate need of caffeine when she finally emerges from the bedroom, hair sleep-mussed and slightly tangled, wearing a hoodie thatβs definitely not her size judging by the way it hits her legs around mid-thigh. (She wouldβve grabbed something that wasnβt his, but sheβd had some trouble locating her pants.) ]
Hey, didnβt you say you had an extra β
[ Thatβs as far as she gets before she spots the tiny badass munching on a poptart at the kitchen table, and her eyes widen before darting back and forth between where Lauraβs sitting and Frank situated at the counter, coffee grounds in hand. ]
β toothbrush.
no subject
it isnβt that it isnβt the truth, even if he doesnβt normally make conscious awareness of it, but whatβs more intriguing is lauraβs way of picking it apart, how thatβs somehow become her understanding of who he is. itβs that and possibly the way she talks about certain methods of keeping him in bed.
he squints deeply, confusion and surprise in his expression just as he hears the creak of an opening door. peering behind where laura sits, he catches sight of wynonna as she steps further through the apartment, closing in on the kitchen as he realizes exactly what she happens to be wearing. ]
Oh, boy. [ taking a deep breath, he runs his hand over his face, rubbing at his eyes before his fingers merely scratch at his chin through his beard. ] Laura. You know Wynonna.
no subject
She is the one you have 'the sex' with.
[Spoken like it's the most normal thing for her to say, really, as she crams more pop-tart into her face like she'll go hungry any second if she doesn't. Where the child has learned about this sort of thing remains unclear, considering she grew up in a cell β but make no mistake, you two: it been knew.
... Oh, wait:]
I took the extra toothbrush.
no subject
[ Her immediate instinct is to deny, deny, deny, but she knows from personal experience that some kids have a pretty keen bullshit detector, and it wouldn't surprise her if Laura falls into that camp given what she's been through β but then there's the question of whether or not Laura actually knows what she's referring to along those lines.
Could be someone's actually had the birds and the bees talk with her at some point, or it could be that she just thinks sex is like this very long, extended handshake. Either way, Wynonna's suddenly very aware of her own very pantsless state, even if she is technically wearing more layers than just Frank's sweatshirt.
Oh, and he's not going to be any help at all in this, apparently, as evidenced by the fact that he's still turned toward the coffee maker; she narrows her eyes at him before trying to paste a friendlier smile on her face for Laura's sake. ]
We're, um. Friends. Good friends. The kind of friends that you make when you're much, much older and can legally vote. Or drink. Definitely then. [ And in response to Laura's other swiping, she waves a dismissive hand, the other subtly trying to pull the hem of the hoodie further down her legs. ] Don't sweat it. Coffee and toothpaste don't mix well anyway.