RP for drgatesjones (Used and abused ;) )

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After this.


By the time Lee dropped him at Dia's place, Max was feeling sore all over. Worry, sparring, almost panic, relief... admissions. The thanked the driver, shouldered the bag - he'd not even recalled about it when shuffling with Stephen into the house - and made his way up.

As always, always when he went there, since that unforgettable evening of flowers, he smiled when he crossed the threshold. In a very small way... their threshold. Not... formally. Just of two people who shared love. Who shared each other.

His contribution to share tonight was rather... odd. Aching body, aching bones, aching thoughts. It had not ended badly, but the low after the adrenaline rush - and there had been one. Or two. - was a draw on his strength on its own. At least the emotional part... they'd talked about already. Briefly. It seemed different then though than now. One thing, a bodyguard with feelings for his boss. (a part of him was snorting and pointing out at Kevin Costner and Whitney Houston) A different thing the way it was standing since tonight.

Not different regarding Claudia. His light. The smile on his face. Not that Stephen couldn't put one - but it was different. His heart was filled with her to bursting.

And he was late. "m home." He started at how tired his voice sounded, almost like a mumble, and made a second, more concentrated attempt. "I'm home, beautiful!" She'd know, from the wards, probably. Still.

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[drgatesjones.livejournal.com]

Dia walked out from the linen closet, she'd just finished putting the clean laundry away after switching the sheets on the bed. "Hey handsome, I was getting worried..." She stopped short, seeing his tired look and the stiff way he was holding himself. "What happened to you?" She asked softly. "Have you eaten yet?" It was an odd question to ask after the first one, but it was the very next thing that popped into her mind. She sincerely doubted he'd eaten.

She stopped short of actually touching him, not wanting to hurt him even accidentially, "Here let me take the bag." She said reaching for it.

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He smiled a little more at seeing her and when she reached for the bag, he just stepped closer to wrap her in his arms. Never mind hurting. Never mind at all. His voice held a sigh, one of contentment, as he rested his cheek against her hair. "I'm sorry I am late. Stephen gave me a fright and I wasn't sure it was a reasonable idea to leave him on his own and..." Deep breath, taking in her scent. "And now I'm here. He's home, too, and I think will be all right." Just because he finished what he started, you know.

Max pulled back just a little, to smile down at her. And then it turned a bit self-mocking. "We sparred. He's still better with those swords than I am." Which wasn't why he was this sore, no, but it was adding to it. "We both ended up a bit worse for the wear after it. And... no. I haven't." Eaten.

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Dia held him. "It's fine. I'm glad you're home." She wanted to ask more but held her tongue. She could ask later. Right now she was just focused on taking care of her man.

She reached up to lightly cup his cheek. "Let's get you fed and then into bed. You're going to hurt tomorrow. You want to sit here in the kitchen or eat in bed? I'll fry you up an omelet unless you had something specific you'd like."

She carefully took his bag and set it to one side. Then grabbing his arm and looping it through hers, so she could give him that little extra support.

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"Kitchen should be fine." Less work for her to do before and after. More time for her to be in the same room as him. Holding him. That felt good, very good. His lips quirked up at the way she took his hand. "I'm sore and bruised a bit, not an invalid, you know." He lifted her hand to kiss it, holding it closely among his fingers for a moment, then instead snaked his arm around her back. Painkilles, he could use. Worrying her more than was necessary, they could both do without.

... which is the moment his stomach decides to 'speak up' and he grins. "I do believe that's supposed to mean omelet is good, unless there are leftovers which I could chew on without you having to work at all. Did you have anything yourself?"

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"Yes, but you're sore and bruised, let me help." She gave him a fond look. It's what I'm here for. She blushed at the handkiss. She always did.

She slipped an arm around him too. " I love you, Max." She walked with him to the kitchen. "Um yeah baked potato or something. It was quick and easy and I was caught up in research. You know me." She smiled self-depreciatingly. "I don't mind making you an omelet. You need a hot meal anyways after the day you've had." She smiled as she got him to sit and then poured him a glass of water and handed him the bottle of pain killers.

"Cheese, peppers, tomatoes? Anything you want in it?" She asked him, getting out the pan and the eggs.

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"You. are. spoiling me again. And I love you even more for it." Not just for it, no. But it was... a novelty. Still was. Possibly, would always be.

His mouth was starting to water at the rich offer. Probably it could be detected in his voice. "Cheese, please." Obediently he remained in the chair - not that much of a trouble - opened the painkillers and swallowed a handful (well. three.), drinking long and thirsty from the water. Then grinned apologetically up at her and rose to refill it, returning to his place after.

Then he let out a slow breath, and spoke again. "More of an evening than the whole day. Happily. And it turned out better than I was afraid at one point." Stephen taking out his keys. Putting them back. Taking them out again. Staring at things without really seeing them. "Definitely better."

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"Yes." She agreed with him, though she wouldn't call it spoiling so much as she would call it taking good care of someone she loved. She didn't think she'd ever get tired of that look of wonder on his face everytime she did something like this.

She got out the cheese and started to fry up his omelet, letting her hands do the work as she listened to him, for him.

She nodded, "That's a relief. So the day was decent but the evening was rough? I'm glad everything got settled."
He was more tired than normal and definitely more battered. Not just physical exertion then, emotional too.

She set his omelet in front of him, "Eat up," she said softly cupping his cheek with one hand before going to quickly wash up the dishes.

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Max leaned his elbows on his thighs and propped his head on his hands, just above the level of the table, not quite just looking down and drifting off - no, his eyes were following her motions, efficient, willing.
He hadn't had anyone to care of him like that for... twice as long, as more, as he'd had it. Patching each other up at camps or in dingy motel rooms didn't quite count. Or, more recently, decent hotel rooms. He shook his head slightly. It was spoiling, no matter how he tried to think about it. And he didn't mind in the least. Just wanted to thank her about it, and thank her, and yet again...

Small sigh. Better out than in, as they say. "It seems that after the recent... strike against the Wardens there have been some decisions to recruit wizards with some experience." His lips quirked. "Probably also based on who has applied previously to the Warden program." Not him. He hadn't. Gladly. "The choice of 'envoy' to Stephen was a majorly bad choice." No need for details. Those were Stephen's alone to talk about or not. "He was angry. Have you ever seen Stephen angry? Cool, composed Stephen?" It was... shaking on its own, that. He rubbed his eyes, and then she was beside him, with food too, and he snaked an arm around her waist, holding her briefly before letting her on her way.

And attacking the omelet. It smelled - and tasted - delicious. And no matter how it wasn't right, he talked with his mouth full. Carefully, but he did. "Then I took him home. Had to, I am almost sure he wouldn't have been able to drive and all." Had to explain. Or maybe the words were just coming out, unchecked, as a part of him was just shutting down and control was slipping away. Something.

He was way too tired for the hour of the evening, that he was certain of.

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She raised an eyebrow, "I have not." She felt a rush of sympathy for Stephen and to some extent for Sol." She washed the dishes, collecting her thoughts. "So after the envoy left, you helped him work off some steam, didn't you?" My lovely faithful Max, she thought to herself. Loyal to a fault practically.

She finished the dishes and sat in the chair beside him, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. "You did good, honey. You did. Please tell me you're both taking tomorrow mostly off." He needed the sleep and a day of no complications to really bounce back and if Max was like this, she was willing to bet Stephen was in the same state or worse. "Dad and 'Lina can do without me for a day and you and I can just be wildly decadent and not leave the bed unless we want to."

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His smile was very true, and his voice warm, and sincere, and... just grateful. "Thank you." He swallowed, then turned his face to kiss the inside of her arm.

"Yes, well. He was... he hadn't even noticed he'd bloodied his knuckles on the punching bag. I don't know what else he may have failed to notice if I left him on his own." He sure knew he didn't want to find out.

At least that was something not on the agenda anymore. Exchanged for a few bruises. Heh.

He grinned a little. "Stephen said - all day off, for both of us. But I promised to check on him - and probably if there is an emergency, it'll be known there first." Unscheduled absences might result in things working less than smoothly. Or not. "BUT if you can take the day off, we can both go. At some point of the day." Some point being definitely distant from early morning. And, as they both knew, there were plenty places to lay down over there as well.

But he was still worried. Less so than before, and yet.

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"Yeah they won't mind." She assured him, "He was that bad? I'm glad you stayed, Max." She was. She wouldn't wish any sort of harm on Stephen.

"Sweet, I'm glad both of you are taking a day for yourselves." She ran her fingers through his hair, "You both do deserve it. We can go over together. I'd like to see Sol and see how Stephen's doing. If he was that bad, he might need a friendly face or two." She knew he'd still be worried and she was too now that he'd explained things. But they couldn't do anything tonight, and Max needed her care right now.

"C'mon darling. Let's go lie down, I'll give you a back rub if you like or even a front rub. Or we can just cuddle and sleep. I'm here for you, Max."

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Max smiled lightly, then carefully reached an pulled her onto his lap, for a moment. No, he didn't wince, and no, he didn't plan to disobey her urging. Just a little bit...

He held her close, almost burying his face against her, and stayed like that a little bit, then he looked up, slid his fingers along her cheeck and gently into her hair, palm resting on her face, and smiled a bit.

"I love you, beautiful." It was ... amazing still, probably always would be. How somebody who didn't have to go through all the strain (and happily, she didn't) could empathize so much. So he could talk with her, and have her listen and not want to run away from it all, from him. "Thank you, for understanding. For all." All that she was.

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Her eyes softened, "You're welcome, handsome. I love you too." She hadn't protested him pulling her into his lap and she'd just hugged him and just...was there for him.

No need for words, unless he wanted to talk more, just holding him and being, as her stepfather once put it.
She remembered being on digs and appreciated later on, how much strain that was for Sam, taking his family places that weren't always safe and making sure they were as secure as he could make them. Or when they were older and one location and how tired Sam would be sometimes after coming home and just needing a hug and some silent company.

Mother had never really listened to Sam...Dia'd been determined to make sure that once she did find someone to always give them a warm hug and listening ear if they needed it. She was more than happy to do this for Max. He worked so hard and he was so very good as what he did. He deserved to come home to a hot meal and a hug. Always.

She dropped a light kiss on his lips. "Anytime, Max. Anytime." She waited to see if he wanted to sit and be, a little longer or get up and head to the bed. She wasn't going to push him. No need for urgency right now. They could be slow. Slow was good.

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"You are so... precious." His eyes were oh so tender now. And yes, she had taken away so much of the weariness, of the exhaustion. Nourishing body and soul. Well, the painkillers may have helped a tiny little bit too, but they weren't all. "You know that even with how much I care for him, my heart is yours, hmm? I panicked for a bit, back there. Or I'd have called sooner."

And he did care. Love. Possibly, if he'd grown up observing a family with jealousy and insecurity growing up when he could understand it, he'd be feeling guilt, now. For loving two people. But he hadn't. His experience with actual love was none at all, so he was taking it as it came. He wasn't conflicted. Loved them both, and that was it - different ways. Well, he wanted to protect them both, that was certain but... it was just not the same. He belonged to Dia one way, and to Stephen in an entirely different way.

And it was up to him to make neither unhappy. Nobody else. He leaned his forehead against hers for a moment, then wrapped his arms snugly and rose, lifting her up. (yeah. Painkillers definitely working.) Here and now. And here and now, it was Dia. "My Claudia."

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She kissed his cheek. "I know. You were needed there and it was important for you to do that. As distressed as I am sometimes when you come home bruised and achy, it was the right thing to do, love. I get that." She carefully tilted his head so she could look him in the eye, "I'm not going to make you choose, love." She assured him.

She smiled, "Yours always, Max." She wrapped an arm around his neck. "Bed, love?" She wanted to wrap her arms around him for a change and let him snuggle into her. She could be the strong one for him for a while.

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His breath caught at those words. I'm not going to make you choose, love. His lips murmured quietly, softly, almost without his mind registering what he was saying. "No. You're not, because you do love me. And that means... more than I can put into words." He'd stopped for a moment at that, eyes open, wide, vulnerable. Put that way...

If she were somebody else, she might have made him. Choose. And it would have hurt more than--

Maybe that's why people were supposed to be careful about falling in love. His arms tightened around her as he shook that thought away. He wouldn't let what-ifs and could-haves break what was. Leaning to kiss her forehead, he started towards the bedroom again.

"Yes. Bed." And there he took her, and set her gently down on the bed (mmm clean sheets... smelled good, even not quite as good as her, any day) and set about undressing for bed, still staying close to her.

Not upset, no. Just... drained all over again. To no one in particular, he said, "I am a fool." For ... making things complicated. For only being able to do so much. "But not fortune's fool. I'd not change anything." A smile at her, even if more tired than almost any, and then moved to slip under the covers. "Not this. Not you, my beautiful love. Not even me."

Yes... snuggling into her didn't sound like a bad idea at all.

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Dia wrapped her arms around him, kissing his forehead as he snuggled into her arms. "I'm glad, love. I wouldn't change a single thing about you either." She ran her fingers through his hair softly. "Rest now, handsome."