lysistrategic (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lysistrategic) wrote2012-06-03 10:01 pm
lysistrategic) wrote2012-06-03 10:01 pm
[For Arthur] Operation: Empty Nest
The walk back from the new aquarium is long and filled mostly with restless silence, the kind they've not shared since Arthur's arrival on the island, but long familiar to both of them. It's not, ultimately, an uncomfortable silence, not with Joan's fingers laced with his - far more unfamiliar to both of them than the silence itself, simply one where words and emotions won't align and brush up against each other looking for the way out.
It persists until they're home, and thankfully Emily and Matt seem still to be out. Joan inclines her head to the bedroom, and when Arthur nods, she finally breaks the silence to say, "I'll pour us a drink." That will, also out of long habit, tell her husband she means to retreat to the bedroom for private conversation rather than sex, although that, too, is very much on her mind.
Never more so than lately, after her conversation with Emily on the night of Matt's arrival. She supposes - as Arthur smiles his fond approval and she retrieves glasses from the bar to pour two glasses of fume blanc and decides to bring the bottle - she has been very fortunate in that regard. Their sex life has always been passion-filled and mutually satisfactory.
Retreating to the bedroom herself, Joan hooks the door on her heel and pulls it shut. She hands Arthur his glass as she perches her hip on the chair they've brought in. It's not like the study at home, but it functions the same way. An intermediate place between their public lives and their intimate one, where they can talk and ease their way back to lovers from coworkers. Here, though, it's different, isn't it? Since she brought up the most intimate of topics in a public place and now they've still got so much to say to each other.
It takes her several minutes to find the thread of her thoughts from earlier and her free hand trails to play idly with the buttons of the dress shirt he insists upon wearing even here (and she rarely argues, since he's a handsome man and she's more than a little vain about how they look together) while she thinks. "You must think I'm a harpy and that I don't trust you at all," she says finally, somewhat reluctantly.
It persists until they're home, and thankfully Emily and Matt seem still to be out. Joan inclines her head to the bedroom, and when Arthur nods, she finally breaks the silence to say, "I'll pour us a drink." That will, also out of long habit, tell her husband she means to retreat to the bedroom for private conversation rather than sex, although that, too, is very much on her mind.
Never more so than lately, after her conversation with Emily on the night of Matt's arrival. She supposes - as Arthur smiles his fond approval and she retrieves glasses from the bar to pour two glasses of fume blanc and decides to bring the bottle - she has been very fortunate in that regard. Their sex life has always been passion-filled and mutually satisfactory.
Retreating to the bedroom herself, Joan hooks the door on her heel and pulls it shut. She hands Arthur his glass as she perches her hip on the chair they've brought in. It's not like the study at home, but it functions the same way. An intermediate place between their public lives and their intimate one, where they can talk and ease their way back to lovers from coworkers. Here, though, it's different, isn't it? Since she brought up the most intimate of topics in a public place and now they've still got so much to say to each other.
It takes her several minutes to find the thread of her thoughts from earlier and her free hand trails to play idly with the buttons of the dress shirt he insists upon wearing even here (and she rarely argues, since he's a handsome man and she's more than a little vain about how they look together) while she thinks. "You must think I'm a harpy and that I don't trust you at all," she says finally, somewhat reluctantly.
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He reaches up and cups the side of her cheek and strokes the skin with his thumb. “And I love you very much, Joan.” Arthur isn’t just parroting it back to her because it’s expected. Neither would do that, but it’s heartfelt and meant. “I never indulge in foolish what ifs or might have beens, but I honestly would have wanted to have a child with you if our paths had gone that way.”
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Not long after, possibly to rescue them from the sentiment of the moment as she often will, Joan's eyes sparkle with something more interesting than tears. "My birth control's still effective, but there's nothing to stop us from indulging in a little roleplay..."
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