The incident in Puente Antiguo rendered shows like Ancient Aliens obsolete. 'They' were real, they had been here and now the world knew it. Even so, the show was still running and watching was a Friday night ritual. Ulysses got hilariously into it, mumbling and gesturing, looking like a real life version of the Giorgio Tsoukalos "aliens" meme. It was adorable, a side of him seldom seen except by you.
You looked at Ulysses and back to your lapdesk, allowing yourself a laugh.
"Oi, what's the joke?" He asked, wearing a grin of his own.
"Nothing, nothing." You insisted and make a couple notes on your papers.
"Why you working anyway, bokkie? It's been a long day. Relax." Ulysses chided and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He pulled you flush to him, his scent and warmth were indeed distracting. That jerk.
You put down your pen, pushed your lapdesk aside and rested your head on Ulysses' arm. Just for a minute, then back to it. "You're right. Just double-checking the numbers on that deal for the Jericho missiles."
"You were double-checking them. No more work tonight." He grabbed your neglected whiskey from the coffee table and handed it over, with a look that meant to say there would be no arguing.
"You're a terrible influence, ya know." You muttered and took a sip of the liquor before setting it back on it's coaster.
"Aye." Ulysses nodded and took your face in his hands. "And i want your undivided attention."
His lips were on yours and you met the kids with eagerness. Ulysses' mouth tasted of the strawberry candy he had been sucking on: tart and sweet at once. You found the lozenge and took it for your own.
"You've stolen my candy!" Ulysses complained.
"Yep! Mine now."
"Oh no you don't." Ulysses pinned you against the sofa's plush cushions and amidst a medley of squeals, giggles and sighs he reclaimed his damn candy.