Work Text:
“They’re here!”
The shout is a call to action, a sign that the operation is a go. There’s a flurry of movement as everyone abandons their seats to sprint to their assigned stations. One at the door, a smiling face to beckon them in, due to help seal off the entrance once they’re admitted. One behind the door leading to the living room, blocking that route of escape. One similarly stationed at the kitchen door, blocking that route of escape. Then there’s you, poised at the remaining exit from the foyer, waiting for the trap to be sprung.
Such lengths shouldn’t be necessary, but for such an easygoing man he makes things ever-so-complicated. If he’d just take that bloody jacket off occasionally. Rather, take it off when someone could conveniently get ahold of it. Every last one of you has tried, at one point in time or another, to get their hands on it. Emma was foiled by a dip in the weather during her visit. Sarah pointed out that he’d not even brought it with him when he’d visited her. Diana nearly had it in her possession, once, but Tom had caught her and thought it was an insistence that they go for a walk with the pup.
“I’ll get the lead from him and — oh he’d better not let – mum your flower bed is getting an extra sprinkle today!”
You bow your head as you suppress giggles, nearly thunking your head on the closed partition and noting Diana’s snort of displeasure. Tom will definitely hear about that once this particular mission has been carried out.
Operation de-pill the jacket.
