Work Text:
Pauline smiled brightly, swishing her glass full of red wine around as she looked at her husband.
“Hurry up and sit down,” she told him, patting the spot on the couch next to her.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there soon,” Halt told her, his smile hidden from her. He had his own wine glass sitting on the counter of their main kitchen area. He was busying himself cutting some cheese slices and placing them on small bread crackers. He put them on a wooden board and brought it over to the couch. As soon as he settled down beside her she put an arm around his shoulders.
“Just double checking,” she said,” you don’t have anything important to do tomorrow, right?”
“Not unless something comes up,” he told her.
“That’s good then. We can stay up as late as we want.” She grinned at him and gave him a light kiss on the cheek.
“We usually stay up late,” Halt pointed out.
“No,” Pauline said deliberately. “You stay up late. I go to bed at a reasonable time.”
“You don’t get up at a reasonable time though. It’s still dark out when you wake up.”
“Perfect waking time.” Pauline picked up one of the crackers and popped it in her mouth. Then she picked up another cracker and brought it up to Halt. “Open wide,” she grinned at him. Halt tried to dodge it, grabbing her wrist.
“What are you doing?”
“It’d be pretty stupid if you brought these crackers out for us and you’re not even going to eat any yourself,” she laughed, trying again but Halt held firm.
“Maybe I’m not hungry right now,” he retorted. “Maybe I just want wine.”
“Alright then.” Pauline set the cracker back down on the table and picked up Halt’s glass, bringing that up to him. “Drink up.”
“I can drink fine by myself, thank you very much,” Halt protested, once again trying to dodge her.
Pauline leaned away from him, her posture radiating fake wounded dignity, a pout painted on her face. “You won’t let your wife do you a favour? Even a small one? I’m just doing this because I know how tired and oh so sore your arms can get from shooting arrows all day so I was just trying to help you out.”
Halt liked to think he was immune to Pauline, but the truth wa he wasn’t. He was the farthest from it. If you were to line everyone in the world up in a massive line and order them by how likely they were to fall for her enchantment, from most likely to least, he would be at the very top of that line, ready to hold hands with her and never let go. And he hated to see her hurt or sad in any way – even if he knew she was very clearly joking around. He caved.
“Fine.”
Pauline’s pout transformed into a wide satisfied smile. “Oh goody,” she said and brought the wine glass up to his lips. She tipped it so it poured into his mouth, the look on her face the same one Crowley would get when he pulled off a “world-class prank.” It was slightly less mischievous than Gilan’s prank-grin.
After a good portion of the drink was gone, Halt grabbed Pauline’s wrist again and pushed the glass away.
“That’s enough,” he said, being careful to make sure no runaway wine would spill.
“At least I got to do it,” she sat back, her new accomplishment shining through her voice. “And if you said no I was going to pour it on you anyway.”
“That’d affect you too,” her husband pointed out. “It’d get on the couch.”
Pauline appeared to consider that. “It wouldn’t be too bad. We live in a castle. We could get a new one pretty easily. But for you, it’d be annoying cleaning it out of your hair.” She took a sip from her own glass, now noticeably more full than Halt’s.
“You’re a horrible wife,” Halt joked. “You’re going to make me cry with your cruelty.”
“Wow, what a baby. You’re going to cry because someone said some mean words to you? I thought you were supposed to be some big scary ranger.”
“Big scary rangers can have feelings too.”
“Oh, really?” she asked and he nodded. “Then why don’t you try expressing them for once?”
He grinned at her. “No, thank you.” He grabbed one of the glasses and tried some more wine, holding the glass in his hand and swishing it around like a red whirlpool. “Also, I do express some feelings.”
“Yes, you do,” Pauline agreed. “You express anger by throwing people out of windows.”
“Are you saying he didn’t deserve it?”
“I am not saying that. I’m just saying to most people it isn’t seen as ‘professional’ or ‘healthy’.” She peered at the glass in Halt’s hand, then at the glass standing on the table. She gave him and the drink he was holding a suspicious glance. “Is that my wine?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Halt replied with far too much innocence. “They both look the same to me. Does it really matter?”
“It matters to me,” Pauline said firmly. “Yours had less in it.” She turned away, arms crossed and posture glaring offense and betrayal at him. But despite how dedicated she could be, she couldn’t keep the act up for long and not even ten seconds later she turned back to him, excitement lighting up her whole face.
“Oh! I didn’t tell you! Do you remember that man I told you about last week? The one at the meeting?”
“The one that said you were ‘unfit for your job’?” Halt asked and Pauline nodded. He remembered when she had come back from it – a cold fury in her being that she had kept concealed up until that point when she could finally let some of it go and fade away in the safe comfort of her husband’s arms. He remembered that same cold fury being transported over to him when she told him the tale of her day and he remembered the strong urge that had formed to find the man and punch him in his incredibly ignorant face.
“That’s the one,” Pauline confirmed. “Well, guess what happened to him.”
“What?”
Pauline made another pouty face and playfully hit him in the chest. “I said guess!”
The ranger groaned. “You know, most people hate it when you make them actually guess.” Pauline’s expression still didn’t change so he relented. “Fine. He died?”
“Unfortunately, no,” Pauline said and Halt raised an eyebrow at her.
“Unfortunately?”
“Yes. Unfortunately. But that doesn’t matter. What actually happened was he got laid off for slacking and being ‘too unprofessional’.” She giggled at the irony and Halt let out a small bark of laughter.
“Serves him right,” he said, smiling in satisfaction.
“Indeed. Who’s ‘unfit for the job’ now, Chad?”
Halt almost choked on his, or possibly Pauline’s, wine as he heard that. “His name was Chad?” Pauline nodded up and down multiple times. “What kind of name is Chad?” he laughed. “With a name like that his parents were probably wishing for him to be a sexist prick.”
“I know,” his wife said. “They should congratulate themselves on a job well done.”
“Give themselves a pat on the back,” Halt added.
“Agreed.” Pauline reached down and picked up another two crackers. She had one for herself, enjoying the way it crunched between her teeth and the way the bland flavour didn’t so much as dance, but more walked like an elderly person across her tongue. She gave the other cracker to Halt, once again trying to insert it straight into his mouth. And this time, he let her.
“See?” she said. “That wasn’t so hard was it?”
“It was hard,” Halt feigned pain and exhaustion. “It was so terribly hard and painful that I don’t think I have the energy to stay like this.” He slumped towards her, leaning against her side and resting his head on her shoulder. But even he – Halt, the country’s greatest and most dangerous ranger. The man known among some for his grim demeanour and bad temper – couldn’t keep the grin from splitting across his face.
Pauline looked down at him, her own eyebrow raised this time. “You’re an idiot.”
“Well you married me so what do you think that says about you?”
His wife gently stroked some fallen strands of hair from his face, the only person alive he allowed to do that as she smiled warmly at him. It means you’re my idiot,” she said. Her husband flicked her a mischievous smile and waggled his ring finger at her.
“Forever.”