socks and irresponsibility.

She had searched. Oh, she had searched; high and low, to either side, beneath the dirty couch cushions and at the far end of the bed, deep within the recesses of each and every closet in the house.

And so far, it had all come to naught.

"Roiben?" She called frantically, one shoe on, the other foot bare and her hair messy and platinum. It flicked her in the eyes; she mentally cursed how it grew so quickly and pushed it out of the way irritably with one hand.

She smelled burning, coming from the kitchen, and yelped. "Roiben!" She shouted again, making her way down the hall and in to where a saucepan of milk sat boiling on the stove. How did she manage to burn the bloody liquid anyway?

"Roiben!" She shouted one last time, ripping the saucepan from the stove, turning and automatically checking the baby for the usual; glamour, croup, changeling and the like. "Where the heck are you?"

There was an indistinct noise out in the garage. Rolling up black jacket sleeves, she stormed out, fully prepared to give the faeran king the ear-thrashing of his lifetime.

She didn't quite make it in the door, though. She found herself somewhat spellbound – or perhaps shell-shocked would be a better phrase – by the sight she found.

Her lover was hunched over a guitar. This she noticed. His long silver hair hid the neck of the instrument from view. This she also noticed. His slender fingers picked out a haunting melody on its strings. Of course, this was quite hard to miss.

He was oblivious to her, focused on his music-making. However, he didn't fail to pick up on the sock that landed on his head.

"Roiben, Roiben, Roiben," Kaye heard herself say in a deadly calm voice, stalking towards him. "You mean to tell me that you used that sock that I have been looking for everywhere in this godforsaken dump to clean the inside of that stupid guitar with?"

I fail. The end. D: I swear, I'll never do it again. for both. Y'know, Zanisha and ninja . butterfliie. Because I can't go without dedicating. This is so stupid… forget I ever wrote it. Context - take it as real world, living together/married/a kid. Pretty much. And this is the 60th fic for this section. Party! I've written more fics than there are in this fandom. Come on - write.

Love from Tally.