iv. spare change

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disclaimer: I do not own kotlc.   

pairings&characters: married!sokeefe

genre: romance, fluff, humor, au

rating: k+

summary: sophie's acting weird and keefe doesn't know why.


"Babe, wake up."

Keefe stirred in the huge bed, but didn't really obey. He was out cold, drooling on his pillow.

Sophie rolled her eyes, but the corners of her lips twitched. "Keefe, c'mon."

He rolled over, groaning, until he faced her. But his eyes were still drooping shut. "Quiet. . ." he moaned.

"No, you need to get up," she answered, pushing his shoulder, trying to get him awake.

"Shhhhh," he replied sleepily. Sophie had to giggle at that. When Keefe got tired, he tended to let his guard down and mutter incoherent nonsense. She couldn't lie—it was always adorable. "Be a woman and get up," she teased.

"I'll be a woman and s-sleep, how 'bout that. . ?"

Sophie shook her head, a bit of her temper starting to flare. He was cute, but he really did need to get up. She was getting the results back from Elwin today and she knew that any minute they might come in. "I will push you out of bed."

Keefe smiled sleepily, his eyes still unopened. "I'd like to see you try. But enough, ugh, nonsense. . . ." He moaned, shifting a little in bed. The covers came down a little off his back from the movement, revealing that his torso was bare. His eyes fluttered open and he stared back at her with the ice blue gaze. "Gimme' kiss, Foster."

She rolled her eyes, but bent over and placed a quick peck to his waiting lips. At least, it would have been a quick peck if he hadn't snagged her to him with a sneaky arm around her waist.

Next he ran a hand through her hair, messing it up further. "You sure have some bedhead, hun," he mumbled into her mouth.

She poked him in the stomach and he chuckled, but let her go from his embrace. She straightened her shirt. "Finally," she said, "free from captivity."

"Captivity? I'm your husband! I was holding you with my arm!" He laughed. "You little stinker."

"You little stinker. You're like a hibernating bugbear."

He rubbed his drowsy eyes, yawning. "What do you need me up for?" he asked.

"It's called you can't sleep in all day."


"I'm going to take a shower," she snapped, arms crossed as she sprung from the bed.

"Wait!" Her husband yelled, bewildered. He sprung from the bed, too, when she didn't stop and chased her out the door into the hall. He grabbed her arm and swung her around. "I know you're Miss Mood Swings, but you don't have to act like you're pregnant!" he teased. He frowned when she didn't laugh—or even smile—but stiffened. "What did I do? What's wrong?"

She bit her lip. "Do you have any spare change?"

He was taken back a step. Her stalling was legendary, but this was just completely odd. "W-What? Foster. . ."

"Spare. Change," she repeated.

He was frozen in the spot, staring at her slack-jawed, his face the definition of confusion. She shook her blonde head. "Just. . . Forget it. I'll find some on my own."

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