Miguel-verse. Creed's residence. Warm summery night.

[random_xtras]

Fluß poked the slab of beef that lay in a bowl on the counter and found it satisfactorily thawed.

She put her ears back, then flicked them toward the doors, listening again for Victor's return. "(He should be back by now,)" she said to Peter, who was quietly smacking on his fist in his sling. "(He said that this was going to be an easy mission.)"

Ears back again, she went to the back door and listened again, one hand absently smoothing the long, sparkly, blue and green tie-dye skirt that she wore before it went up to tuck her white streak behind her left ear.

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[another-phace.livejournal.com]

He slowly withdrew it.

"Hey," he said gruffly, then blinked as Creed gently pulled the streak away from her eyes.

[random_xtras]

She blinked with dismay as she remembered what the outstretched hand meant.

"Ach! Forgive me, bitte." Her own went out toward him even as her ears twitched gently in an absent smile for her husband.

Peter yawned massively and buried his tiny face in his father's shirt, little hands curling to grip it.

[another-phace.livejournal.com]

Logan blinked, but shook it, then looked up, startled, as Creed huffed happily and smiled broadly, cradling his boy close and starting to purr.

"No... problem," he said slowly, looking around again before staring hard at Creed. "Hey, Fluffy. I need t' talk t' ya. Outside."

"I ain't fightin' t'night," Creed's purr never broke. "N' I ain't leavin' my family. Get gone n' find your own woman, Runt."