#beeslyofficial

“So was I. But then-.” She's interrupted by more screaming, as if to prove her point, and she just lifts her finger toward the ceiling. He groans and pinches the bridge of his nose,

“Christ, that's the third time this month.” His other hand runs along the line of her back, fingers tracing over the bumps of her spine.

“I can't even tell if they're fighting or fucking this time,” Bobbi mutters curiously as she twists her head and rests her ear just above his heart. There's a drawn out squeal, definitely a squeal, and Bobbi grimaces. “Well, I got my answer.”

They wait a few more minutes, seeing if it'll go away on its own, but the woman screams louder, loud enough for Bobbi to actually make out the name of her boyfriend.

“Rock, paper, scissors to see who has to talk to them?” Lance says with a forced grin and she simply raises an eyebrow.

“Rock, paper, if you ever want to have sex again, you'll do it.” He sighs dejectedly and lets his head fall to the pillow.

“I always forget about that one,” he mumbles and she smiles in spite of herself. “Also, it never works in my favor. Can't exactly use it on you.”

“You could try, but I'd outlast you, easily.” Lance pushes her off his chest and stands, swiping his sweatpants off the floor. The screaming gets even more high pitched, this time accompanied by a deeper voice.

“Well that's just brilliant.” Bobbi snorts and pushes up on her elbows, reaching out and tugging on his pant leg. “Whaaaaaaaat?” he whines dramatically, taking a few steps closer to the bed.

Once he's close enough, she grips his waist and looks up at him with pleading eyes. He bends over and she curves her hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down further. She presses her lips to his softly and sighs at the warm familiarity, scraping her nails across his skin.

“Hurry up,” she breathes against his mouth, kissing him one last time before letting him go. Lance nods, tongue poking out to wet his lips, and something in her already aches at the idea of him leaving.

Watching him leave isn't bad though. She could watch his muscles bunch and shift all day long, thinking of all the things she wants to do to him. The door shuts and she drops down to the mattress, curling up in the spot of warmth on his side of the bed. His pillow smells strongly of him and she shoves her face in it, inhaling deeply.

Next thing she knows, she’s being pushed gently and then a warm body presses up against her side. Bobbi hums and shifts so she’s laying halfway on top of him. His arm falls across her back and she drapes hers over his waist, hugging him closer as he settles.

[Well that's not very helpful.] He snorts and signs off on a proposal. Lance also knows that she's not the best at cooking. She can bake like it's the easiest thing to do; cooking though, not so much.

[Pasta then. Honestly, I'd be fine with mac and cheese.] There's a knock at the door just as he fires off his reply. Annie's standing there with a hand on her hip.

"It's six," she states as she raises an eyebrow. "Why aren't you going home?"

"There's work to be done."

"Yes, as in done tomorrow." She marches inside and takes one look at his computer screen before nodding and holding in the power button. He squawks in indignation, rising to his feet, and she crosses her arms over her chest. "Your family is waiting. Go home."

"But-."

"Now." There's a hint of a growl in her tone and he's not going to argue with her. "Oh god, she's cooking," she groans after sneaking a glance at his phone. "You need to get home. Now.”

Annie practically shoves him out the door and into the elevator, and he catches her muttering, "you'll thank me later," as the doors slide shut.

-

He throws the front door open and steps inside with a flourish as soon as he sees Izzy in her playpen. She lets out a high pitched shriek and claps her hands as he walks over to her and lifts her into his arms.

"Hello, my baby bird," he coos while she sticks his finger in her mouth. She looks up at him curiously and he grins before kissing her forehead and laying her back down.

"Iz, where's mama bird?" he asks loudly, knowing Bobbi'll hear him. When there's no response, he goes to investigate. He finds her in the kitchen, frowning at the pot in front of her.

"Bob?" She jumps as she turns around and pulls out a knife from thin air, pointing it at his face. His hands fly up immediately and she deflates, dropping the knife to the counter.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," she mumbles, scrubbing her hands over her face as he walks toward her.

"Hey, it's alright," he tells her quietly, pulling her into his arms. While she buries her face in his the side of his neck, he peeks into the pot.

He doesn't know what he was expecting, but it was something along the lines of 'edible.'

What he finds doesn't match his expectations at all.

The outsides are blackened and crusted to the pot, while the middle just looks like brown goo.

She sniffles softly and he realizes that she's crying. "Bobbi, hey look at me." Lance pushes her back a bit so he can see her face. She wipes at her cheeks with the sleeve of her sweatshirt (which, hey, he's been missing that for weeks now).

"I love you. A lot. So much that I married you twice." She chuckles at that and he grins, happy to see that she's not that far gone yet. "But please stop trying to cook me dinner. You suck."

Bobbi rolls her eyes and heaves a sigh as he leans in to press his lips to the tip of her nose. "And I mean that in the nicest way possible."

"I know. I just thought it'd be a nice gesture." She looks down and picks at her sleeves, bottom lip sticking out in a pout.

"I appreciate it." She meets his gaze and ends up smiling at the loving expression on his face.

“I’m cold,” she whines pitifully and he chuckles. She reaches toward him and pushes her bottom lip out. “Come closer.” He sits next to her on the couch and she immediately curls into his side.

“And here I thought you hated cuddling,” Lance jokes as he wraps his arm around her shoulder.

“Shut up,” she mutters before pressing her nose to the side of his neck. The yelp he lets out makes her smile, if only for a second.

“Christ, you’re freezing.” Bobbi hums in agreement as he snakes a hand underneath her jacket while she snuggles closer. He finds the hem of her sweater and slides his hand up her ribcage. She moans quietly and melts into him, trying to press as much of her body against his as possible.

“You’re like a fucking furnace, it’s not fair,” she groans and he smiles before lifting her into his lap, her knees on either side of his hips.

She lifts his shirt and presses her hands to his stomach, making him shiver. 

“I’ll be your personal space heater,” Lance says, holding her close, and she sighs.