Here were Liz' prompts: ten (the number); pomegranate; paper clip. And Liz asked: and in honor of your icon, it would be awfully fun to peek in on Angel and Brandon and the kids... please?
Okay, Liz - here you go!
"Guh. These workouts are getting harder. Or I'm getting older." A towel around his waist, Angel stared hard at the mirror. "I'd swear I saw a gray hair the other day." At a suspicious sound from his lover, he turned, leaning his butt against the bathroom counter. "You've got something to say?"
Brandon Halvorsen, baseball's The Great Dane, pointed at himself. "Who me?" He gave a rapid headshake. "Nuh-uh."
The big blonde was just too good-looking for his own good.
Angel curled a lip and turned back to the mirror. "Keep it up, smart guy. We'll see who laughs last tonight." He bit his own lip to keep from smiling.
"Angel!" Trey's bawling voice blasted across the fitness center, into the connecting room where the two men were cleaning up after their workout.
Sighing, Angel opened the linen cabinet. "That boy sounds like Fred Hallowell's bull." He raised a second towel to his hair, then froze, hand at the back of his head. "Brandon. Did you just hear me? I sounded almost... country."
Brandon burst into laughter, dodging Angel as the terrycloth was snapped at his ass. He quickly yanked on his track pants, still snickering.
Trey banged on the half-open door. "Angel!"
"What!" Angel yanked the door all the way open. "Ay-yay-yay, mi'jo. Where the heck is the fire?"
Rolling his eyes, the ten-year-old waved a piece of paper. "We're supposed to go pick up our stuff, remember?"
Brandon whistled. "Oh, yeah, mi fresa. You get to play den mother today, remember, while I'm working?"
"Oh, crap. That's right." Angel turned to Trey, hoping the fifth grader would cut him some slack. "Maybe my mama will help you with that."
"Uh-uh, Angel. Mama Maria said you'd try to weasel out of this. You promised. You're supposed to drive me to pick up the candy we have to sell for my football team."
"Yeah, Angel." Brandon had a definite smirk on his face. "And then, don't forget you have to take Marisa to her Pomegranate Princesses meeting. Aren't you doing some kind of paperclip bracelet project or something?" Rumbling with glee, Brandon was practically vibrating with amusement.
"Oh, God. Kill me know."