Insisting that she didn't mind at all, Marie toddled off down the hall, humming, leaving Gwen to stifle a groan and the urge to just...burrow into Owen's arms and disappear for the duration. As it was, she just sat up, throwing back her messy hair with one arm, turned to him and began apologizing in an earnest whisper.
"God, Owen, I'm so sorry...she does this all the time. It's like she has no brain to mouth filter at all. And yet she gripes at me about propriety, but she's perfectly comfortable talking about backside erosion--what the hell--in the kitchen! With a man she just met this morning! Gah!"
Gwen stifled the grunt of exasperation--theatrical, mostly, because she really did love her mother, when everything was said and done--but dropped her head to Owen's warm shoulder this time instead of the cold countertop.
"...God," emerged from somewhere around his bicep, but it was distinctly muffled. But she lifted her head after a few more commiserating moments and again pushed back her hair, a bit more serious this time.
"But at least we'll all have clean clothes." She retrieved her coffee cup, leaned an elbow on the counter, and reverted to her 'professional' tone, saying, "We have enough groceries to feed a regiment, thankfully. Mom picked up a lot of meat, which Blue will definitely need in the next few days. Important thing now is to get her eating, so she can stay off the IV. We can take them a change of clothes here in a few minutes, and I'll cut some fruit and leave it in there, in case that'll tempt either of them."
Pausing for a swallow of coffee, Gwen continued. "Once she's eaten, I want to get Blue up and out of that bed. She's been on her back for almost ten days, which isn't good for her circulatory system. Omega can help her clean up, take a sponge bath, maybe, but we're going to need to get her ambulatory as soon as she's strong enough to stand." A corner of her mouth quirked. "And if I know our girl, that won't be very long at all."
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"God, Owen, I'm so sorry...she does this all the time. It's like she has no brain to mouth filter at all. And yet she gripes at me about propriety, but she's perfectly comfortable talking about backside erosion--what the hell--in the kitchen! With a man she just met this morning! Gah!"
Gwen stifled the grunt of exasperation--theatrical, mostly, because she really did love her mother, when everything was said and done--but dropped her head to Owen's warm shoulder this time instead of the cold countertop.
"...God," emerged from somewhere around his bicep, but it was distinctly muffled. But she lifted her head after a few more commiserating moments and again pushed back her hair, a bit more serious this time.
"But at least we'll all have clean clothes." She retrieved her coffee cup, leaned an elbow on the counter, and reverted to her 'professional' tone, saying, "We have enough groceries to feed a regiment, thankfully. Mom picked up a lot of meat, which Blue will definitely need in the next few days. Important thing now is to get her eating, so she can stay off the IV. We can take them a change of clothes here in a few minutes, and I'll cut some fruit and leave it in there, in case that'll tempt either of them."
Pausing for a swallow of coffee, Gwen continued. "Once she's eaten, I want to get Blue up and out of that bed. She's been on her back for almost ten days, which isn't good for her circulatory system. Omega can help her clean up, take a sponge bath, maybe, but we're going to need to get her ambulatory as soon as she's strong enough to stand." A corner of her mouth quirked. "And if I know our girl, that won't be very long at all."