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Summary
He moves forward, crossing the kitchen in a single step. He's blocked her in, head slightly above hers. He reaches down and pulls the bourbon glass out from between her open legs, and takes a drink, not missing the flutter of her pulse in her neck as his arm glides over her thigh. "You sure you're okay with seeing me every time you look at your kid? I mean, we don't exactly get along."
"Yeah, but I believe your tragic personality flaws are things that can be parented out." Her eyes flick down to his hand then back up at him. "You gonna get me a new drink, or what?"
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Or: Garcia and Santos ask Langdon to help them have a baby.
