At this point, he's screwed enough now that escorting her downstairs will just make her angrier. He's resigned to sinking deep into the couch and digging into his Thai as she walks away, out the door. It tastes good, sure. The noodles are hot and peanutty, the bite of the chili-garlic sauce making him thirsty. It'll have to keep him going through the remainder of his shift and through the ride home. [Honestly, it's fucking awesome. He needs to order from this place, like, all the time. There are few foods as awesome as Thai when you've been working for way too fucking long.]
He finally makes it home at six-thirty in the fucking morning after showering at work and taking the MTA. It's already light outside, and he stops for a Dean & DeLuca, knowing that there's a good chance that Rachel will be awake and hoping that she's in a better mood now than she was when she'd left the precinct. Opening the door, coffees in hand, he locks it behind himself with a soft click, sliding the chain in the lock and twisting the deadbolt.
He removes his shoes so that he doesn't make noise, setting the coffees on the table for a brief moment. The apartment is quiet, and he carefully walks toward their bedroom. He wears sweats - something he can easily sleep in, 'cause he keeps a change of clothes in his locker for days like this, something clean to wear after he showers - and dislodges his badge and sidearm from his clothing, placing them atop the dresser with the intention of moving them to the nightstand drawer later. "Rach, baby?" he murmurs, not wanting to wake her if she sleeps, but wanting to know if she's awake. "Brought you coffee."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2013-02-07 03:06 am (UTC)He finally makes it home at six-thirty in the fucking morning after showering at work and taking the MTA. It's already light outside, and he stops for a Dean & DeLuca, knowing that there's a good chance that Rachel will be awake and hoping that she's in a better mood now than she was when she'd left the precinct. Opening the door, coffees in hand, he locks it behind himself with a soft click, sliding the chain in the lock and twisting the deadbolt.
He removes his shoes so that he doesn't make noise, setting the coffees on the table for a brief moment. The apartment is quiet, and he carefully walks toward their bedroom. He wears sweats - something he can easily sleep in, 'cause he keeps a change of clothes in his locker for days like this, something clean to wear after he showers - and dislodges his badge and sidearm from his clothing, placing them atop the dresser with the intention of moving them to the nightstand drawer later. "Rach, baby?" he murmurs, not wanting to wake her if she sleeps, but wanting to know if she's awake. "Brought you coffee."