#adlerthetattler

Unsurprisingly, Will’s pun was not met with a warm reception. Lacey’s expression was unimpressed, but the telltale sign of a smile reinforced his self-satisfaction and he smirked, waving the bouquet almost mockingly over her head.

“Every time you tell a dad joke, you take one year off my life.”

Drawing a hand over his heart, Will’s eyes widened in faux astonishment. “What other kind of joke would I tell?” he asked. “I am a dad, you know.”

In truth, he never got tired of saying so. He had wanted to be a father for a long, long time, so her good-natured barb had only pleased him all the more.

Lacey sat upright and crossed her arms over her chest. Charlie was currently maneuvering across the couch in front of her, clearly a tad uncertain as he shook his paws out with every other step.

“Is that a problem?” she asked, brows raising high on her head. “It was three dollars. I thought he might like it when the weather gets cold, so I’m testing it out.” Charlie flicked his tail. “I think he likes it.”

Alex watched the cat with amusement, unsure whether he should laugh or feel sorry for him. “Not for me. Looks like he might be struggling a bit, though.” It was clear he wasn’t used to having things on his paws, but Alex didn’t know if it was dislike or just discomfort. Maybe he’d get used to it eventually. “If you say so. ” Hefting the bag of food he'd brought, he grinned at Lacey. "Hungry?" 

Clearly John had not a clue how to react-----The Woman had a child. Sure he knew that she was alive, Sherlock had been texting with her, but clearly his friend was still keeping information to himself about why he saved her, or the doctor wouldn’t know for what other reason save the rationale of a normal human being. The worst had been to find out through Scotland Yard.

           “I was wondering why my blog counter dropped.”

And then meeting under strange circumstances too, if the car repair shop was considered one. He could remember the appearance of a girl just by showing him a photograph, probably because he had a daughter himself. Not to mention she did remind him of the dominatrix, so much that he had to stare a tad too long.

“Sweetheart, it’s been so long since we’ve had any mother and daughter time. Please let me take your for dinner. We’ll go to Chicama— my treat.” 

“Ugh, here let me help you. You’re not going to be able to fix that up by yourself.” She had seen enough in her fathers surgery to know how to help fix up wounds of such a size. “How does trouble seem to find you wherever, you go?”

Growing up predominately in the south, Will preferred warm, balmy weather with pungent, salty air and soulful chatter amongst the passerby. Even so, he couldn’t deny that the winters of Virginia held a certain magic. His land was quiet (save for Elijah’s ecstatic shrieks), and as he walked hand-in-hand with his son, he chuckled at the boy’s eagerness to get started.

“Whoa, there,” Will admonished. “Don’t you want to wait for Ava and your mom?”

The boy huffed in reply, only to promptly drop backwards into the snow.

Concerned that Elijah might have hurt himself, Will protectively stooped over in order to give him a hand, only to withdraw once he realized the boy was gleefully making snow angels in the pristine white. 

“Daddy, daddy!” he cried. “Come make one too!”

Eyes crinkling warmly, he nodded before (far more carefully) lying down into the snow alongside his son. He hadn’t really done this with his own father, seeing how they predominately fished together, but it filled him with effervescent joy all the same.

The porch door screeched (he really needed to oil those hinges), and Will looked over amidst his casual arm and leg movements. Ava instantly squealed, and he chuckled at her sheer joy. “At least they’re happy screams,” he said.

Even after all this time, he still wasn’t quite used to that.

Slowly rolling up until he was on his feet, Will dusted off his haunches and approached Lacey and Ava. Stooping in to kiss his wife on the mouth, he grinned before allowing, “They’re the beginning of the snowman, yes, but it seems that Eli got a little sidetracked.”

As if seeming to realize just what was at stake, the boy gasped and vaulted up out of the snow, his back and rear a powdery white as he toddled over to them. “Don’t start yet!” he warned.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Will assured the boy. Discreetly, he hefted a snowball into his palm before (gently) crushing it into the back of Lacey’s soft, styled hair.

“Hey!” Elijah cried, outraged. “Don’t waste the snow!”