Tucker pulls into the driveway, taking his keys from the ignition and searching the ring for the house key. He gets out of the car and makes his way up to the door, humming softly to himself. He fits the key in the lock, and pushes it open.

The lights are off. The shutters over the windows are closed. A dim glow filters in through the curtains, but shadows still lurk along the walls and in corners. Silence greets his entrance, a cloak laid over the room.

Tucker takes a hesitant step forward, peering around the entry in search of movement. He squares his back to the door, prepared but unsure what for-

And there's a high pitched laugh from the other room, the one of many possible outcomes that catches him completely off guard, and Junior comes barreling down the hall, Wash hot on his heels. Tucker's gaze follows the flash of movement, and when he looks back, Wash has skidded to a stop in front of him.

He looks like something out of a dream, blond hair stuck up in all direction except for one strand that falls right over the middle of his forehead. The light catches the side of his face through the shutters, casting golden streaks across his skin. His freckles stand out more than ever against the dimly lit backdrop, scattered over his face like constellations. His eyes are lit up blue like a beacon in the darkness, almost like a will-o'-the-wisp in the way they beckon.

"Hi." He says, breathless, leaning down to press his lips to Tucker's cheek. He grins, shining, and takes off after Junior lets out a belated laugh, following the procession at a much more leisurely pace.

He is surprised, but honestly should not have been surprised, by what he sees when he walks into the living room.

The couch has been pushed off to one side of the room, the coffee table to the other. A thin, white sheet is pinned to the wall in one corner of the room, sloping down to hook around the couch. Running from that point down and over to the coffee table is another, thicker blanket. A smattering of similar makeshift tarps is strewn across the rest of the room, taking up almost the entire space. There are cushions thrown about on the floor, and little glowing lamps placed around the interior of the structure. It was impressive, for the small amount of time that Tucker had been gone.

Junior is tucked in between the coffee table and the wall, one hand over his mouth to stifle his giggling. Wash, who had seen him clearly but chose to draw out the game, is strolling around in the room like a detective in an 80s movie, dramatically jumping to look behind blankets and chairs. He's trying to keep a straight face, but the corners of his lips draw upwards involuntarily. Tucker can't help but laugh when Wash leaps out to where Junior's hiding, and the kid shrieks before taking off in the opposite direction. Wash takes a few steps after him, and then stops, turing to face where Tucker still stands.

The two each take a step forward, and meet in the middle, Tucker winding his arms over Wash's shoulders and Wash's hands finding Tucker's hips. "Welcome home." Wash whispers, leaning down so their foreheads touch.

Tucker huffs. "And here I was expecting to be the main attraction." He glances around the room. "You two put on a hell of a show."

Wash shrugs, ducking his head. "You left me alone with the kid, what did you expect?"

"Total destruction." Tucker says, completely straight faced. Wash laughs.

"Well then that marks another scenario where I'm glad to have proved you wrong."

Tucker shoves at his shoulder. "You always love proving me wrong, asshole."

Wash just grins, and Tucker leans up to kiss his smile. Wash's hand finds his jaw, and pulls him close so they're flush from head to toe. There's a loud, dramatic gagging sound from across the room. and the two break apart to see Junior standing with his arms crossed and pulling a disgusted face. Wash turns and his eyes find Tucker's. Tucker nods at him, and the two take off running after Junior.

There's a second, a very long second, where Tucker's mind moves faster than the world around them. He slows just a touch, think that maybe this does kinda feel like a cheesy lifetime movie. The Wash glances over at him, practically glowing, and Tucker decides that he doesn't give a damn.

It might not be what he planned, or predicted for his life, but this little patchwork family is the best thing that's ever happened to him. For all the things wrong with him, for all the bullshit he's caused, he regrets nothing because in the end it got him here.

He's happy, and there's nothing that's bullshit about that.